THE 


CONDUCT  OF  LIFE. 


E.   W.  EMEESON. 


BOSTON: 
TICKNOR   AND    FIELDS. 

M  DCCC  LX. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1860,  by 

R.  W.  EMERSON, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


RIVERSIDE,   CAMBRIDGE: 
STEREOTYPED  AND  PRINTED  BY  H.  0.  HOUQHTON. 


CONTENTS 


Page 

I.  FATE, 7 '. 1 

II.  POWER, 43 

III.  WEALTH,". 71 

IV.  CULTURE, '.Ill 

V.  BEHAVIOR, 145 

VI.  WORSHIP, 173 

VII.  CONSIDERATIONS  BY  THE  WAY, 213 

VIII.  BEAUTY,  . /. 245 

IX.  ILLUSIONS, .  .271 


>   OF  1 

JI72 


I. 

FATE. 


DELICATE  omens  traced  in  air 
To  the  lone  bard  true  witness  bare; 
Birds  with  auguries  on  their  wings 
Chanted  undeceiving  things 
Him  to  beckon,  him  to  warn; 
Well  might  then  the  poet  scorn 
To  learn  of  scribe  or  courier 
Hints  writ  in  vaster  character; 
And  on  his  mind,  at  dawn  of  day, 
Soft  shadows  of  the  evening  lay. 
For  the  prevision  is  allied 
Unto  the  thing  so  signified; 
Or  say,  the  foresight  that  awaits 
Is  the  same  Genius  that  creates. 


FATE. 

IT  chanced  during  one  winter,  a  few  years  ago, 
that  our  cities  were  bent  on  discussing  the  theory 
of  the  Age.  By  an  odd  coincidence,  four  or  five 
noted  men  were  each  reading  a  discourse  to  the 
citizens  of  Boston  or  New  York,  on  the  Spirit  of 
the  Times.  It  so  happened  that  the  subject  had 
the  same  prominence  in  some  remarkable  pam 
phlets  and  journals  issued  in  London  in  the  same 
season.  To  me,  however,  the  question  of  the  times 
resolved  itself  into  a  practical  question  of  the  con 
duct  of  life.  How  shall  I  live  ?  ^/We  are  incom 
petent  to  solve  the  times.  Our  geometry  cannot 
span  the  huge  orbits  of  the  prevailing  ideas,  be 
hold  their  return,  and  reconcile  their  opposition. 
We  can  only  obey  our  own  polarity.  'Tis  fine 
for  us  to  speculate  and  elect  our  course,  if  we 
must  accept  an  irresistible  dictation. 

In  our  first  steps  to  gain  our  wishes,  we  come 
upon  immovable  limitations.  We  are  fired  with 
the  hope  to  reform  men.  After  many  experi 
ments,  we  find  that  we  must  begin  earlier,  —  at 
school.  But  the  boys  and  girls  are  not  docile; 
i 


2  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

we  can  make  nothing  of  them.  We  decide  that 
they  are  not  of  good  stock.  We  must  begin  our 
reform  earlier  still,  —  at  generation  :  that  is  to  say, 
there  is  Fate,  or  laws  of  the  world. 

But  if  there  be  irresistible  dictation,  this  dicta 
tion  understands  itself.     If  we  must   accept  Fate, 

\  we  are  not  less  compelled  to  affirm  liberty,  the 
significance  of  the  individual,  the  grandeur  of  duty, 
the  power  of  character.  This  is  true,  and  that 
other  is  true.  But  our  geometry  cannot  span  these 
extreme  points,  and  reconcile  them.  What  to  do  ? 
By  obeying  each  thought  frankly,  by  harping,  or, 
if  you  will,  pounding  on  each  string,  we  learn  at 
last  its  power.  By  the  same  obedience  to  other 
thoughts,  wre  learn  theirs,  and  then  comes  some 
reasonable  hope  of  harmonizing  them.  We  are 

•f  sure,  that,  though  we  know  not  how,  necessity 
does  comport  with  liberty,  the  individual  with  the 
world,  my  polarity  writh  the  spirit  of  the  times. 
The  riddle  of  the  age  has  for  each  a  private  solu 
tion.  If  one  would  study  his  own  time,  it  must 
be  by  this  method  of  taking  up  in  turn  each  of  the 
leading  topics  which  belong  to  our  scheme  of  hu 
man  life,  and,  by  firmly  stating  all  that  is  aoree- 
able  to  experience  on  one,  and  doing  the  same 
justice  to  the  opposing  facts  in  the  others,  the  true 
limitations  will  appear.  Any  excess  of  emphasis, 
on  one  part,  would  be  corrected,  and  a  just  balance 
would  be  made. 


FATE.         „  3 

But  let  us  honestly  state  the  facts.  Our  Amer 
ica  has  a  bad  name  for  superficialness.  Great  men, 
great  nations,  have  not  been  boasters  and  buf 
foons,  but  perceivers  of  the  terror  of  life,  and  have 
manned  themselves  to  face  it.  The  Spartan,  em 
bodying  his  religion  in  his  country,  dies  before  its 
majesty  without  a  question.  The  Turk,  who  be 
lieves  his  doom  is  written  on  the  iron  leaf  in  the 
moment  when  he  entered  the  world,  rushes  on  the 
enemy's  sabre  with  undivided  will.  The  Turk, 
the  Arab,  the  Persian,  accepts  the  foreordained 
fate. 

"  On  two  days,  it  steads  not  to  run  from  thy  grave, 

The  appointed,  and  the  unappointed  day; 
On  the  first,  neither  balm  nor  physician  can  save, 
Nor  thee,  on  the  second,  the  Universe  slay." 

The  Hindoo,  under  the  wheel,  is  as  firm.  Our 
Calvinists,  in  the  last  generation,  had  something 
of  the  same  dignity.  They  felt  that  the  weight 
of  the  Universe  held  them  down  to  their  place. 
What  could  they  do  ?  Wise  men  feel  that  there 
is  something  which  cannot  be  talked  or  voted 

o 

away,  —  a  strap  or  belt  which  girds  the  world. 

"  The  Destiny,  minister  general, 
That  executeth  in  the  world  o'er  all, 
The  purveyance  which  God  hath  seen  beforne, 
So  strong  it  is,  that  tho'  the  world  had  sworn 
The  contrary  of  a  thing  by  yea  or  nay, 
Yet  sometime  it  shall  fallen  on  a  day 


CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

That'  falleth  not  oft  in  a  thousand  year; 
For,  certainly,  our  appetite's  here, 
Be  it  of  war,  or  peace,  or  hate,  or  love, 
All  this  is  ruled  by  the  sight  above." 

CHAUCER:  TJie  KnigUe's  Tale. 


The  Greek  Tragedy  expressed  the  same  sense  : 
"Whatever  is  fated,  that  will  take  place.  The 
great  immense  mind  of  Jove  is  not  to  be  trans 
gressed." 

Savages  cling  to  a  local  god  of  one  tribe  or 
town.  The  broad  ethics  of  Jesus  were  quickly 
narrowed  to  village'  theologies,  which  preach  an 
election  or  favoritism.  And,  now  and  then,  an 
amiable  parson,  like  Jung  Stilling,  or  Robert  Hun- 
tington,  believes  in  a  pistareen-Providence,  which, 
whenever  the  good  man  wants  a  dinner,  makes 
that  somebody  shall  knock  at  his  door,  and  leave 
a  half-dollar.  But  Nature  is  no  sentimentalist, — 
does  not  cosset  or  pamper  us.  We  must  see  that 
the  world  is  rough  and  surly,  and  will  not  mind 
drowning  a  man  or  a  woman ;  but  swallows  your 
ship  like  a  grain  of  dust.  The  cold,  inconsiderate 
of  persons,  tingles  your  blood,  benumbs  your  feet, 
freezes  a  man  like  an  apple.  The  diseases,  the 
elements,  fortune,  gravity,  lightning,  respect  no 
persons.  The  way  of  Providence  is  a  little  rude. 
The  habit  of  snake  and  spider,  the  snap  of  the 
tiger  and  other  leapers  and  bloody  jumpers,  the 
crackle  of  the  bones  of  his  prey  in  the  coil  of  the 


FATE.  0 

anaconda,  —  these  are  in  the  system,  and  our  habits 
are  like  theirs.  You  have  just  dined,  and,  however 
scrupulously  the  slaughter-house  is  concealed  in  the 
graceful  distance  of  miles,  there  is  complicity, — 
expensive  races,  —  race  living  at  the  expense  of 
race.  The  planet  is  liable  to  shocks  from  comets, 
perturbations  from  planets,  rendings  from  earthr 
quake  and  volcano,  alterations  of  climate,  preces 
sions  of  equinoxes.  Rivers  dry  up  by  opening  of 
the  forest.  The  sea  changes  its  bed.  Towns  and 
counties  fall  into  it.  At  Lisbon,  an  earthquake 
killed  men  like  flies.  At  Naples,  three  years  ago, 
ten  thousand  persons  were  crushed  in  a  few  min 
utes.  The  scurvy  at  sea ;  the  sword  of  the  climate 
in  the  west  of  Africa,  at  Cayenne,  at  Panama,  at 
New  Orleans,  cut  off  men  like  a  massacre.  Our 
western  prairie  shakes  with  fever  and  ague.  The 
cholera,  the  small-pox,  have  proved  as  mortal  to 
some  tribes,  as  a  frost  to  the  crickets,  which,  hav 
ing  filled  the  summer  with  noise,  are  silenced  by 
a  fall  of  the  temperature  of  one  night.  Without 
•uncovering  what  does  not  concern  us,  or  counting 
how  many  species  of  parasites  hang  on  a  bombyx ; 
or  groping  after  intestinal  parasites,  or  infusory 
biters,  or  the  obscurities  of  alternate  generation  ;  — 
the  forms  of  the  shark,  the  labrus,  the  jaw  of  the 
sea-wolf  paved  with  crushing  teeth,  the  weapons  of 
the  grampus,  and  other  warriors  hidden  in  the  sea, 
- —  are  hints  of  ferocity  in  the  interiors  of  nature. 


6  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

Let  us  not  deny  it  up  and  down.  Providence  has 
a  wild,  rough,  incalculable  road  to  its  end,  and  it 
is  of  no  use  to  try  to  whitewash  its  huge,  mixed 
instrumentalities,  or  to  dress  up  that  terrific  bene 
factor  in  a  clean  shirt  and  white  neckcloth  of  a 
student  in  divinity. 

•  Will  you  say,  the  disasters  which  threaten  man 
kind  are  exceptional,  and  one  need  not  lay  his  ac 
count  for  cataclysms  every  day?  Aye,  but  what 
happens  once,  may  happen  again,  and  so  long  as 
these  strokes  are  not  to  be  parried  by  us,  they 
must  be  feared. 

(  But  these  shocks  and  ruins  are  less  destructive 
to  us,  than  the  stealthy  power  of  other  laws  which 
on  us  daily.  An  expense  of  ends  to  means 
\  is  fate  ;  —  organization  tyrannizing  over  character. 
The  menagerie,  or  forms  and  powers  of  the  spine, 
is  a  book  of  fate  :  the  bill  of  the  bird,  the  skull 
of  the  snake,  determines  tyrannically  its  limits.  So 
is  the  scale  of  races,  of  temperaments ;  so  is  sex ; 
so  is  climate  ;  so  is  the  reaction  of  talents  imprison 
ing  the  vital  power  in  certain  directions.  Every 
spirit  makes  its  house ;  but  afterwards  the  house 
confines  the  spirit,  j 

The  gross  lines  are  legible  to  the  dull :  the  cab 
man  is  phrenologist  so  far  :  he  looks  in  your  face  to 
see  if  his  shilling  is  sure.  A  dome  of  brow  denotes 
one  thing  ;  a  pot-belly  another  ;  a  squint,  a  pug- 
nose,  mats  of  hair,  the  pigment  of  the  epidermis, 


FATE.  7 

betray  character.  People  seem  sheathed  in  their 
tough  organization.  Ask  Spurzheim,  ask  the  doc 
tors,  ask  Quetelet,  if  temperaments  decide  nothing  ? 
or  if  there  be  anything  they  do  not  decide  ?  Read 
the  description  in  medical  books  of  the  four  tem 
peraments,  and  you  will  think  you  are  reading  your 
own  thoughts  which  you  had  not  yet  told.  Find 
the  part  which  black  eyes,  and  which  blue  eyes, 
play  severally  in  the  company.  How  shall  a  man 
escape  from  his  ancestors,  or  draw  off  from  his 
veins  the  black  drop  which  he  drew  from  his  fath 
er's  or  his  mother's  life  ?  It  often  appears  in  a 
family,  as  if  all  the  qualities  of  the  progenitors  were 
potted  in  several  jars,  —  some  ruling  quality  in  each 
son  or  daughter  of  the  house,  —  and  sometimes  the 
unmixed  temperament,  the  rank  unmitigated  elixir, 
the  family  vice,  is  drawn  off  in  a  separate  indi 
vidual,  and  the  others  are  proportionally  relieved. 
We  sometimes  see  a  change  of  expression  in  our 
companion,  and  say,  his  father,  or  his  mother,  comes 
to  the  windows  of  his  eyes,  and  sometimes  a  remote 
relative.  In  different  hours,  a  man  represents  each 
of  several  of  his  ancestors,  as  if  there  were  seven 
or  eight  of  us  rolled  up  in  each  man's  skin,  —  seven 
or  eight  ancestors  at  least,  —  and  they  constitute 
the  variety  of  notes  for  that  new  piece  of  music 
which  his  life  is.  At  the  corner  of  the  street,  you 
read  the  possibility  of  each  passenger,  in  the  facial 
angle,  in  the  complexion,  in  the  depth  of  his  eye. 


8  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

His  parentage  determines  it.  Men  are  what  their 
mothers  made  them.  You  may  as  well  ask  a  loom 
which  weaves  huckaback,  why  it  does  not  make 
cashmere,  as  expect  poetry  from  this  engineer,  or  a 
chemical  discovery  from  that  jobber.  Ask  the  dig 
ger  in  the  ditch  to  explain  Newton's  laws  :  the  fine 
organs  of  his  brain  have  been  pinched  by  overwork 
and  squalid  poverty  from  father  to  son,  for  a  hun 
dred  years.  When  each  comes  forth  from  his 
mother's  womb,  the  gate  of  gifts  closes  behind  him. 
Let  him  value  his  hands  and  feet,  he  has  but  one 
pair.  So  he  has  but  one  future,  and  that  is  already 
predetermined  in  his  lobes,  and  described  in  that 
little  fatty  face,  pig-eye,  and  squat  form.  All  the 
privilege  and  all  the  legislation  of  the  world  can 
not  meddle  or  help  to  make  a  poet  or  a  prince  of 
him. 

Jesus  said,  "  When  he  looketh  on  her,  he  hath 
committed  adultery."  But  he  is  an  adulterer  be 
fore  he  has  yet  looked  on  the  woman,  by  the  super 
fluity  of  animal,  and  the  defect  of  thought,  in  his 
constitution.  Who  meets  him,  or  who  meets  her, 
in  the  street,  sees  that  they  are  ripe  to  be  each 
other's  victim. 

In  certain  men,  digestion  and  sex  absorb  the  vital 
force,  and  the  stronger  these  are,  the  individual  is 
so  much  weaker.  The  more  of  these  drones  perish, 
the  better  for  the  hive.  If,  later,  they  give  birth 
to  some  superior  individual,  with  force  enough  to 


FATE.  9 

add  to  this  animal  a  new  aim,  and  a  complete  ap 
paratus  to  work  it  out,  all  the  ancestors  are  gladly 
forgotten.  Most  men  and  most  women  are  merely 
one  couple  more.  Now  and  then,  one  has  a  new 
cell  or  camarilla  opened  in  his  brain,  —  an  archi 
tectural,  a  musical,  or  a  philological  knack,  some 
stray  taste  or  talent  for  flowers,  or  chemistry,  or 
pigments,  or  story-telling,  a  good  hand  for  drawing, 
a  good  foot  for  dancing,  an  athletic  frame  for  wide 
journeying,  &c.  —  which  skill  nowise  alters  rank  in 
the  scale  of  nature,  but  serves  to  pass  the  time,  the 
life  of  sensation  going  on  as  before.  At  last,  these 
hints  and  tendencies  are  fixed  in  one,  or  in  a  suc 
cession.  Each  absorbs  so  much  food  and  force,  as 
to  become  itself  a  new  centre.  The  new  talent 
draws  off  so  rapidly  the  vital  force,  that  not  enough 
remains  for  the  animal  functions,  hardly  enough  for 
health ;  so  that,  in  the  second  generation,  if  the  like 
genius  appear,  the  health  is  visibly  deteriorated,  and 
the  generative  force  impaired. 

People  are  born  with  the  moral  or  with  the  ma 
terial  bias  ;  —  uterine  brothers  with  this  diverging 
destination  :  and  I  suppose,  with  high  magnifiers, 
Mr.  Frauenhofer  or  Dr.  Carpenter  might  come  lj 
distinguish  in  the  embryo  at  the  fourth  day,  this 
is  a  Whig,  and  that  a  Free-soiler. 

It  was  a  poetic  attempt  to  lift  this  mountain 
of  Fate,  to  reconcile  this  despotism  of  race  with 

liberty,  which   led   the  Hindoos  to  say,  "  Fate  is 
i* 


10  CONDUCT  OF  LIFE. 

nothing  but  the  deeds  committed  in  a  prior  state 
of  existence."  I  find  the  coincidence  of  the  ex 
tremes  of  eastern  and  western  speculation  in  the 
daring  statement  of  Schelling,  "  there  is  in  every 
man  a -certain  feeling,  that  he  has  been  what  he  is 
from  all  eternity,  and  by  110  means  became  such  in 
time."  To  say  it  less  sublimely,  —  in  the  history 
of  the  individual  is  always  an  account  of  his  con 
dition,  and  he  knows  himself  to  be  a  party  to  his 
present  estate. 

A  good  deal  of  our  politics  is  physiological.  Now 
and  then,  a  man  of  wealth  in  the  heyday  of  youth 
adopts  the  tenet  of  broadest  freedom.  In  England, 
there  is  always  some  man  of  wealth  and  large  con 
nection  planting  himself,  during  all  his  years  of 
health,  on  the  side  of  progress,  who,  as  soon  as  he 
begins  to  die,  checks  his  forward  play,  calls  in  his 
troops,  and  becomes  conservative.  All  conserva 
tives  are  such  from  personal  defects.  They  have 
been  effeminated  by  position  or  nature,  born  halt 
and  blind,  through  luxury  of  their  parents,  and 
can  only,  like  invalids,  act  on  the  defensive.  But 
strong  natures,  backwoodsmen,  New  Hampshire 
giants,  Napoleons,  Burkes,  Broughams,  Websters, 
Kossuths,  are  inevitable  patriots,  until  their  life 
ebbs,  and  their  defects  and  gout,  palsy  and  money, 
warp  them. 

The  strongest  idea  incarnates  itself  in  majorities 
and  nations,  in  the  healthiest  and  strongest.  Prob- 


FATE.  11 

ably,  the  election  goes  by  avoirdupois  weight,  and, 
if  you  could  weigh  bodily  the  tonnage  of  any  hun 
dred  of  the  Whig  and  the  Democratic  party  in  a 
town,  on  the  Dearborn  balance,  as  they  passed  the 
hayscales,  you  could  predict  with  certainty  which 
party  would  carry  it.  On  the  whole,  it  would  be 
rather  the  speediest  way  of  deciding  the  vote,  to 
put  the  selectmen  or  the  may  or,  and  aldermen  at 
the  hayscales. 

In  science,  we  have  to  consider  two  things  :  power 
and  circumstance.  All  we  know  of  the  egg,  from 
each  successive  discovery,  is,  another  vesicle  ;  and  if, 
after  five  hundred  years,  you  get  a  better  observer, 
or  a  better  glass,  he  finds  within  the  last  observed 
another.  In  vegetable  and  animal  tissue,  it  is  just 
alike,  and  all  that  the  primary  power  or  spasm 
operates,  is,  still,  vesicles,  vesicles.  Yes,  —  but  the 
tyrannical  Circumstance  !  A  vesicle  in  new  cir 
cumstances,  a  vesicle  lodged  in  darkness,  Oken 
thought,  became  animal ;  in  light,  a  plant.  Lodged 
in  the  parent  animal,  it  suffers  changes,  which  end 
in  unsheathing  miraculous  capability  in  the  unal 
tered  vesicle,  and  it  unlocks  itself  to  fish,  bird,  or 
quadruped,  head  and  foot,  eye  and  claw.  The 
Circumstance  is  Nature.  Nature  is,  what  you  may 
do.  There  is  much  you  may  not. .  We  have  two 
things,  —  the  circumstance,  and  the  life.  Once 
we  thought,  positive  power  was  all.  Now  we 
learn,  that  negative  power,  or  circumstance,  is  half. 


12  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

Nature  is  the  tyrannous  circumstance,  the  thick 
skull,  the  sheathed  snake,  the  ponderous,  rock-like 
jaw  ;  necessitated  activity ;  violent  direction ;  the 
conditions  of  a  tool,  like  the  locomotive,  strong 
enough  on  its  track,  but  which  can  do  nothing  but 
mischief  off  of  it ;  or  skates,  which  are  wings  on 
the  ice,  but  fetters  on  the  ground. 

The  book  of  Nature  is  the  book  of  Fate.  She 
turns  the  gigantic  pages,  —  leaf  after  leaf,  —  never 
re-turning  one.  One  leaf  she  lays  down,  a  floor  of 
granite  ;  then  a  thousand  ages,  and  a  bed  of  slate ; 
a  thousand  ages,  and  a  measure  of  coal ;  a  thou 
sand  ages,  and  a  layer  of  marl  and  mud :  vegetable 
forms  appear ;  her  first  misshapen  animals,  zoo 
phyte,  trilobium,  fish;  then,  saurians, — rude  forms, 
in  which  she  has  only  blocked  her  future  statue, 
concealing  under  these  unwieldly  monsters  the  fine 
type  of  her  coming  king.  The  face  of  the  planet 
cools  and  dries,  the  races  meliorate,  and  man  is 
born.  But  when  a  race  has  lived  its  term,  it 
comes  no  more  again. 

The  population  of  the  world  is  a  conditional  pop 
ulation  ;  not  the  best,  but  the  best  that  could  live 
now  ;  and  the  scale  of  tribes,  and  the  steadiness 
with  which  victory  adheres  to  one  tribe,  and  defeat 
to  another,  is  as  uniform  as  the  superposition  of 
strata.  We  know  in  history  what  weight  belongs  to 
race.  We  see  the  English,  French,  and  Germans 
planting  themselves  on  every  shore  and  market  of 


FATE.  13 

America  and  Australia,  and  monopolizing  the  com 
merce  of  these  countries.  We  like  the  nervous  and 
victorious  habit  of  our  own  branch  of  the  family. 
We  follow  the  step  of  the  Jew,  of  the  Indian,  of  the 
Negro.  We  see  how  much  will  has  been  expended 
to  extinguish  the  Jew,  in  vain.  Look  at  the  un 
palatable  conclusions  of  Knox,  in  his  "  Fragment 
of  Races,"  —  a  rash  and  unsatisfactory  writer,  but 
charged  with  pungent  and  unforgetable  truths. 
"Nature  respects  race,  and  not  hybrids."  "Every 
race  has  its  own  habitat.''''  "  Detach  a  colony  from 
the  race,  and  it  deteriorates  to  the  crab."  See  the 
shades  of  the  picture.  The  German  and  Irish  mil 
lions,  like  the  Negro,  have  a  great  deal  of  guano  in 
their  destiny.  They  are  ferried  over  the  Atlantic, 
and  carted  over  America,  to  ditch  and  to  drudge, 
to  make  corn  cheap,  and  then  to  lie  down  prema 
turely  to  make  a  spot  of  green  grass  on  the  prairie. 
One  more  fagot  of  these  adamantine  bandages, 
is,  the  new  science  of  Statistics.  It  is  a  rule,  that 
the  most  casual  and  extraordinary  events  —  if  the 
basis  of  population  is  broad  enough  —  become  mat 
ter  of  fixed  calculation.  It  would  not  be  safe  to 
say  when  a  captain  like  Bonaparte,  a  singer  like 
Jenny  Lind,  or  a  navigator  like  Bowditch,  would 
be  born  in  Boston :  but,  on  a  population  of  twenty 
or  two  hundred  millions,  something  like  accuracy 
may  be  had.* 
*  "  Everything  which  pertains  to  the  human  species,  considered 


14  CONDUCT  OF  LIFE. 

'Tis  frivolous  to  fix  pedantically  the  date  of  par 
ticular  inventions.  They  have  all  been  invented 
over  and  over  fifty  times.  Man  is  the  arch  ma 
chine,  of  which  all  these  shifts  drawn  from  himself 
are  toy  models.  He  helps  himself  on  each  emer 
gency  by  copying  or  duplicating  his  own  structure, 
just  so  far  as  the  "need  is.  'Tis  hard  to  find  the 
right  Homer,  Zoroaster,  or  Menu ;  harder  still  to 
find  the  Tubal  Cain,  or  Vulcan,  or  Cadmus,  or 
Copernicus,  oY  Fust,  or  Fulton,  the  indisputable 
inventor.  There  are  scores  and  centuries  of  them. 
"  The  air  is  full  of  men."  This  kind  of  talent  so 
abounds,  this  constructive  tool-making  efficiency,  as 
if  it  adhered  to  the  chemic  atoms,  as  if  the  air 
he  breathes  were  made  of  Vaucansons,  Franklins, 
and  Watts. 

Doubtless,  in  every  million  there  will  be  an  as 
tronomer,  a  mathematician,  a  comic  poet,  a  mystic. 
No  one  can  read  the  history  of  astronomy,  with 
out  perceiving  that  Copernicus,  Newton,  Laplace, 
are  not  new  men,  or  a  new  kind  of  men,  but 
that  Thales,  Anaximenes,  Hipparchus,  Empedocles, 
Aristarchus,  Pythagoras,  (Enipodes,  had  antici 
pated  them ;  each  had  the  same  tense  geometrical 
brain,  apt  for  the  same  vigorous  computation  and' 

as  a  whole,  belongs  to  the  order  of  physical  facts.  The  greater  the 
number  of  individuals,  the  more  does  the  influence  of  the  individual 
will  disappear,  leaving  predominance  to  a  series  of  general  facts  de 
pendent  on  causes  by  which  society  exists,  and  is  preserved."  — 

QUETELET. 


FATE.  15 

logic,  a  mind  parallel  to  the  movement  of  the 
world.  The  Roman  mile  probably  rested  on  a 
measure  of  a  decree  of  the  meridian.  Mahometan 

e> 

and  Chinese  know  what  we  know  of  leap-year, 
of  the  Gregorian  calendar,  and  of  the  precession 
of  the  equinoxes.  As,  in  every  barrel  of  cowries, 
brought  to  New  Bedford,  there  shall  be  one  orangia, 
so  there  will,  in  a  dozen  millions  of  Malays  and 
Mahometans,  be  one  or  two  astronomical  skulls. 
In  a  large  city,  the  most  casual  things,  and  things 
whose  beauty  lies  in  their  casualty,  are  produced  as 
punctually  and  to  order  as  the  baker's  muffin  for 
breakfast.  Punch  makes  exactly  one  capital  joke 
a  week ;  and  the  journals  contrive  to  furnish  one 
good  piece  of  news  every  day. 

And  not  less  work  the  laws  of  repression,  the 
penalties  of  violated  functions.  Famine,  typhus, 
frost,  war,  suicide,  and  effete  races,  must  be  reck 
oned  calculable  parts  of  the  system  of  the  world. 

These  are  pebbles  from  the  mountain,  hints 
of  the  terms  by  which  our  life  is  walled  up,  and 
which  show  a  kind  of  mechanical  exactness,  as  of 
a  loom  or  mill,  in  what  we  call  casual  or  fortuitous 
events. 

The  force  with  which  we  resist  these  torrents  of 
tendency  looks  so  ridiculously  inadequate,  that  it 
amounts  to  little  more  than  a  criticism  or  a  protest 
made  by  a  minority  of  one,  under  compulsion  of 
millions.  I  seemed,  in  the  height  of  a  tempest,  to 


16  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

see  men  overboard  struggling  in  the  waves,  and 
driven  about  here  and  there.  They  glanced  intel 
ligently  at  each  other,  but  'twas  little  they  could  do 
for  one  another  ;  'twas  much  if  each  could  keep 
afloat  alone.  Well,  they  had  a  right  to  their  eye- 
beams,  and  all  the  rest  was  Fate. 

We  cannot  trifle  with  this  reality,  this  cropping- 
out  in  our  planted  gardens  of  the  core  of  the  world. 
No  picture  of  life  can  have  any  veracity  that  does 
not  admit  the  odious  facts.  A  man's  power  is 
hooped  in  by  a  necessity,  which,  by  many  experi 
ments,  he  touches  on  every  side,  until  he  learns  its 
arc. 

The  element  running  through  entire  nature, 
which  we  popularly  call  Fate,  is  known  to  us  as 
limitation.  Whatever  limits  us,  we  call  Fate.  If 
we  are  brute  and  barbarous,  the  fate  takes  a  brute 
and  dreadful  shape.  As  we  refine,  our  checks 
become  finer.  If  we  rise  to  spiritual  culture,  the 
antagonism  takes  a  spiritual  form.  In  the  Hindoo 
fables,  Vishnu  follows  Maya  through  all  her  ascend 
ing  changes,  from  insect  and  crawfish  up  to  ele 
phant  ;  whatever  form  she  took,  he  took  the  male 
form  of  that  kind,  until  she  became  at  last  woman 
and  goddess,  and  he  a  man  and  a  god.  The  lim 
itations  refine  as  the  soul  purifies,  but  the  ring  of 
necessity  is  always  perched  at  the  top. 

When  the  gods  in  the  Norse  heaven  were  unable 


FATE.  17 

to  bind  the  Fenris  Wolf  with  steel  or  with  weight 
of  mountains,  —  the  one  he  snapped  and  the  other 
he  spurned  with  his  heel,  —  they  put  round  his  foot 
a  limp  band  softer  than  silk  or  cobweb,  and  this 
held  him :  the  more  he  spurned  it,  the  stiffer  it 
drew.  So  soft  and  so  stanch  is  the  ring  of  Fate. 
Neither  brandy,  nor  nectar,  nor  sulphuric  ether, 
nor  hell-fire,  nor  ichor,  nor  poetry,  nor  genius, 
can  get  rid  of  this  limp  band.  For  if  we  give  it 
the  high  sense  in  which  the  poets  use  it,  even 
thought  itself  is  not  above  Fate  :  that  too  must  act 
according  to  eternal  laws,  and  all  that  is  wilful  and 
fantastic  in  it  is  in  opposition  to  its  fundamental 
essence!^  #/?£>. 

And,  last  of  all,  high  over  thought,  in  the  world 
of  morals,  Fate  appears  as  vindicator,  levelling  the 
high,  lifting  the  low,  requiring  justice  in  man,  and 
always  striking  soon  or  late,  when  justice  is  not 
done.  What  is  useful  will  last;  what  is  hurtful 
will  sink.  "  The  doer  must  suffer,"  said  the 
Greeks :  "  you  would  soothe  a  Deity  not  to  be 
soothed."  "  God  himself  cannot  procure  good  for 
the  wicked,"  said  the  Welsh  triad.  "  God  may 
consent,  but  only  for  a  time,"  said  the  bard  of 
Spain.  The  limitation  is  impassable  by  any  insight 
of  man.^  In  its  last  and  loftiest  ascensions,  insight 
itself,  and  the  freedom  of  the  will,  is  one  of  its 
obedient  members.  But  we  must  not  run  into 
generalizations  too  large,  but  show  the  natural 


18  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

bounds    or   essential    distinctions,  and    seek   to   do 
justice  to  the  other  elements  as  well. 

Thus  we  trace  Fate,  in  matter,  mind,  and  mor 
als,  —  in  race,  in  retardations  of  strata,  and  in 
thought  and  character  as  well.  It  is  everywhere 
bound  or  limitation.  But  Fate  has  its  lord  ;  limita 
tion  its  limits  ;  is  different  seen  from  abo^e  and 
from  below ;  from  within  and  from  without.  For, 
though  Fate  is  immense,  so  is  power,  which  is  the 
other  fact  in  the  dual  world,  immense.  If  Fate 
follows  and  limits  power,  power  attends  and  an 
tagonizes  Fate.  We  must  respect  Fate  as  natural 
history,  but  there  is  more  than  natural  history. 
For  who  and  what  is  this  criticism  that  pries  into 
the  matter  ?  Man  is  not  order  of  nature,  sack 
and  sack,  belly  and  members,  link  in  a  chain,  nor 
any  ignominious  baggage,  but  a  stupendous  an 
tagonism,  a  dragging  together  of  the  poles  of  the 
Universe.  _  He  betrays  his  relation  to  what  is  below 
him,  —  thick-skulled,  small-brained,  fishy,  quadru- 
manous,  —  quadruped  ill-disguised,  hardly  escaped 
into  biped,  and  has  paid  for  the  new  powers  by  loss 
of  some  of  the  old  ones.  But  the  lightning  which 
explodes  and  fashions  planets,  maker  of  planets  and 
suns,  is  in  him.  On  one  side,  elemental  order, 
sandstone  and  granite,  rock-ledges,  peat-bog,  forest, 
sea  and  shore  ;  and,  on  the  other  part,  thought,  the 
spirit  which  composes  and  decomposes  nature, — 


FATE.  19 

here  they  are,  side  by  side,  god  and  devil,  mind  and 
matter,  king  and  conspirator,  belt  and  spasm,  riding 
peacefully  together  in  the  eye  and  brain  of  every 
man. 

Nor  can  he  blink  the  freewill.  To  hazard  the 
contradiction,  —  freedom  is  necessary.  If  you  please 
to  plant  yourself  on  the  side  of  Fate,  and  say,  Fate 
is  all ;  then  we  say,  a  part  of  Fate  is  the  freedom  of 
man.  Forever  wells  up  the  impulse  of  choosing 
and  acting  in  the  soul.  Intellect  annuls  Fate.  So 

o  ._.— - — 

far  as  a  man  thinks,  he  is  free.  And  though  noth 
ing  is  more  disgusting  than  the  crowing  about  lib 
erty  by  slaves,  as  most  men  are,  and  the  flippant 
mistaking  for  freedom  of  some  paper  preamble  like 
a  "  Declaration  of  Independence,"  or  the  statute 
right  to  vote,  by  those  wlio  have  never  dared  to 
think  or  to  act,  yet  it  is  wholesome  to  man  to  look 
not  at  Fate,  but  the  other  way  :  the  practical  view 
is  the  other.  His  sound  relation  to  these  facts  is  to 
use  and  command,  not  to  cringe  to  them.  "  Look 
not  on  nature,  for  her  name  is  fatal,"  said  the 
oracle.  The  too  much  contemplation  of  these  limits 
induces  meanness.  They  who  talk  much  of  des 
tiny,  their  birth-star,  &c.,  are  in  a  lower  dangerous 
plane,  and  invite  the  evils  they  fear. 

I  cited  the  instinctive  and  heroic  races  as  proud 
believers  in  Destiny.  They  conspire  with  it ;  a 
loving  resignation  is  with  the  event.  But  the 
dogma  makes  a  different  impression,  when  it  is 


20  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

held  by  the  weak  and  lazy.  'Tis  weak  and  vicious 
people  who  cast  the  blame  on  Fate.  The  right  use 
of  Fate  is  to  bring  up  our  conduct  to  the  loftiness 
of  nature.  Rude  and  invincible  except  by  them 
selves  are  the  elements.  So  let  man  be.  Let  him 
enfpty  his  breast  of  his  windy  conceits,  and  show 
his  lordship  by  manners  and  deeds  on  the  scale  of 
nature.  Let  him  hold  his  purpose  as  with  the  tug 
of  gravitation.  No  power,  no  persuasion,  no  bribe 
shall  make  him  give  up  his  point.  A  man  ought  to 
compare  advantageously  with  a  river,  an  oak,  or  a 
mountain.  He  shall  have  not  less  the  flow,  the 
expansion,  and  the  resistance  of  these. 

'Tis  the  best  use  of  Fate  to  teach  a  fatal  cour 
age.  Go  face  the  fire  at  sea,  or  the  cholera  in  your 
friend's  house,  or  the  burglar  in  your  own,  or  what 
danger  lies  in  the  way  of  duty,  knowing  you  are 
guarded  by  the  cherubim  of  Destiny.  If  you  be 
lieve  in  Fate  to  your  harm,  believe  it,  at  least,  for 
your  good. 

For,  if  Fate  is  so  prevailing,  man  also  is  part 
of  it,  and  can  confront  fate  with  fate.  If  the 
Universe  have  these  savage  accidents,  our  atoms 
are  as  savage  in  resistance.  We  should  be  crushed 
by  the  atmosphere,  but  for  the  reaction  of  the  air 
within  the  body.  A  tube  made  of  a  film  of  glass 
can  resist  the  shock  of  the  ocean,  if  filled  with  the 
pame  water.  If  there  be  omnipotence  in  the  stroke, 
there  is  omnipotence  of  recoil. 


FATE.  21 

1.  But  Fate  against  Fate  is  only  parrying  and 
defence :  there  are,  also,  the  noble  creative  forces. 
The  revelation  of  Thought  takes  man  out  of  servi 
tude  into  freedom.  We  rightly  say  of  ourselves, 
we  were  born,  and  afterward  we  were  born  again, 
and  many  times.  We  have  successive  experiences 
so  important,  that  the  new  forgets  the  old,  and 
hence  the  mythology  of  the  seven  or  the  nine 
heavens.  The  day  of  days,  the  great  day  of  the 
feast  of  life,  is  that  in  which  the  inward  eye  opens 
to  the  Unity  in  things,  to  the  omnipresence  of  law ; 
—  sees  that  what  is  must  be,  and  ought  to  be,  or  is 
the  best.  This  beatitude  dips  from  on  high  down 
on  us,  and  we  see.  It  is  not  in  us  so  much  as  we 
are  in  it.  If  the  air  come  to  our  lungs,  we  breathe 
and  live  ;  if  not,  we  die.  If  the  light  come  to  our 
eyes,  we  see  ;  else  not.  And  if  truth  come  to  our 
mind,  we  suddenly  expand  to  its  dimensions,  as  if 
we  grew  to  worlds.  We  are  as  lawgivers  ;  we 
speak  for  Nature ;  we  prophesy  and  divine. 

This  insight  throws  us  on  the  party  and  interest 
of  the  Universe,  against  all  and  sundry ;  against 
ourselves,  as  much  as  others.  A  man  speaking 
from  insight  affirms  of  himself  what  is  true  of  the 
mind :  seeing  its  immortality,  he  says,  I  am  im 
mortal  ;  seeing  its  invincibility,  he  says,  I  am 
strong.  It  is  not  in  us,  but  we  are  in  it.  It  is 
of  the  maker,  not  of  what  is  made.  All  things  are 
touched  and  changed  by  it.  This  uses,  and  is  not 


22  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

used.  It  distances  those  who  share  it,  from  those 
who  share  it  not.  Those  who  share  it  not  are 
flocks  and  herds.  It  dates  from  itself ;  —  not  from 
former  men  or  better  men,  —  gospel,  or  constitution, 
or  college,  or  custom.  Where  it  shines,  Nature  is 
no  longer  intrusive,  but  all  things  make  a  musical 
or  pictorial  impression.  The  world  of  men  show 
like  a  comedy  without  laughter  :  —  populations,  in 
terests,  government,  history  ;  —  'tis  all  toy  figures 
in  a  toy  house.  It  does  not  overvalue  particular" 
truths.  We  hear  eagerly  every  thought  and  worcf 
quoted  from  an  intellectual  man.  But,  in  his  pres 
ence,  our  own  mind  is  roused  to  activity,  and  we 
forget  very  fast  what  he  says,  much  more  interested 
in  the  new  play  of  our  own  thought,  than  in  any 
thought  of  his.  'Tis  the  majesty  into  which  we 
have  suddenly  mounted,  the  impersonality,  the 
scorn  of  egotisms,  the  sphere  of  laws,  that  engage 
us.  Once  we  were  stepping  a  little  this  way,  and 
a  little  that  way ;  now,  we  are  as  men  in  a  balloon, 
and  do  not  think  so  much  of  the  point  we  have  left, 
or  the  point  we  would  make,  as  of  the  liberty  and 
glory  of  the  way. 

Just  as  much  intellect  as  you  add,  so  much 
organic  power.  He  who  sees  through  the  design, 
presides  over  it,  and  must  will  that  which  must  be. 
We  sit  and  rule,  and,  though  we  sleep,  our  dream 
will  come  to  pass.  Our  thought,  though  it  were 
only  an  hour  old,  affirms  an  oldest  necessity,  not  to 


FATE.  23 

be  separated  from  thonght,  and  not  to  be  separated 
from  will.  They  must  always  have  coexisted.  It 
apprises  us  of  its  sovereignty  and  godhead,  which 
refuse  to  be  severed  from  it.  It  is  not  mine  or 
thine,  but  the  will  of  all  mind.  It  is  poured  into 
the  souls  of  all  men,  as  the  soul  itself  which  consti 
tutes  them  men.  I  know  not  whether  there  bg,  as 
is  alleged,  in  the  upper  region  of  our  atmosphere,  a 
permanent  westerly  current,  which  carries  with  it 
all  atoms  which  rise  to  that  height,  but  I  see,  that 
when  souls  reach  a  certain  clearness  of  perception, 
they  accept  a  knowledge  and  motive  above  selfish 
ness.  A  breath  of  will  blows  eternally  through  the 
universe  of  souls  in  the  direction  of  the  Right  and 
Necessary.  It  is  the  air  which  all  intellects  inhale 
and  exhale,  and  it  is  the  wind  which  blows  the 
worlds  into  order  and  orbit. 

Thought  dissolves  the  material  universe,  by  car 
rying  the  mind  up  into  a  sphere  where  all  is  plastic. 
Of  two  men,  each  obeying  his  own  thought,  he 
whose  thought  is  deepest  will  be  the  strongest 
character.  Always  one  man  more  than  another 
represents  the  will  of  Divine  Providence  to  the 
period. 

2.  If  thought  makes  free,  so  does  the  moral  sen 
timent.  The  mixtures  of  spiritual  chemistry  refuse 
to  be  analyzed.  Yet  we  can  see  that  with  the  per 
ception  of  truth  is*  joined  the  desire  that  it  shall 
prevail.  That  affection  is  essential  to  will.  More- 


24  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

over,  when  a  strong  will  appears,  it  usually  results 
from  a  certain  unity  of  organization,  as  if  the  whole 
energy  of  body  and  mind  flowed  in  one  direction. 
All  great  force  is  real  and  elemental.  There  is  no 
manufacturing  a  strong  will.  There  must  be  a 
pound  to  balance  a  pound.  Where  power  is  shown 
in  ^vill,  it  must  rest  on  the  universal  force.  Alaric 
and  Bonaparte  must  believe  they  rest  on  a  truth,  or 
their  will  can  be  bought  or  bent.  There  is  a  bribe 
possible  for  any  finite  will.  But  the  pure  sympathy 
with  universal  ends  is  an  infinite  force,  and  cannot 
be  bribed  or  bent.  Whoever  has  had  experience 
of  the  moral  sentiment  cannot  choose  but  believe  in 
unlimited  power.  Each  pulse  from  that  heart  is  an 
oath  from  the  Most  High.  I  know  not  what  the 
word  sublime  means,  if  it  be  not  the  intimations  in 
this  infant  of  a  terrific  force.  A  text  of  heroism,  a 
name  and  anecdote  of  courage,  are  not  arguments, 
but  sallies  of  freedom.  One  of  these  is  the  verse 
of  the  Persian  Hafiz,  "  'Tis  written  on  the  gate  of 
Heaven,  '  Wo  unto  him  who  suffers  himself  to  be 
betrayed  by  Fate  !  '  Does  the  reading  of  history 
make  us  fatalists  ?  What  courao-e  does  not  the 

C5 

opposite  opinion  show  !  A  little  whim  of  will  to  be 
free  gallantly  contending  against  the  universe  of 
chemistry. 

But  insight  is  not  will,  nor  is  affection  will. 
Perception  is  cold,  and  goodness  dies  in  wishes  ; 
as  Voltaire  said,  'tis  the  misfortune  of  worthy  people 


FATE.  25 

that  they  are  cowards ;  "  un  des  plus  grands  mal- 
heurs  des  Jionnetes  gens  c'est  qu'ils  sont  des  Idches" 
There  must  be  a  fusion  of  these  two  to  generate 
the  energy  of  will.  There  can  be  no  driving  force, 
except  through  the  conversion  of  the  man  into  his 
will,  making  him  the  will,  and  the  will  him.  And 
one  may  say  boldly,  that  no  man  has  a  right  per 
ception  of  any  truth,  who  has  not  been  reacted  on 
by  it,  so  as  to  be  ready  to  be  its  martyr. 

The  one  serious  and  formidable  thing  in  nature 
is  a  will.  Society  is  servile  from  want  of  will,  and 
therefore  tire  world  wants  saviours  and  religions. 
One  way  is  right  to  go :  the  hero  sees  it,  and 
moves  on  that  aim,  and  has  the  world  under  him 
for  root  and  support.  He  is  to  others  as  the  world. 
His  approbation  is  honor ;  his  dissent,  infamy.  The 
glance  of  his  eye  has  the  force  of  sunbeams.  A 
personal  influence  towers  up  in  memory  only  wor 
thy,  and  we  gladly  forget  numbers,  money,  climate, 
gravitation,  and  the  rest  of  Fate. 

We  can  afford  to  allow  the  limitation,  if  we 
know  it  is  the  meter  of  the  growing  man.  We 
stand  against  Fate,  as  children  stand  up  against  the 
wall  in  their  father's  house,  and  notch  their  height 
from  year  to  year.  But  when  the  boy  grows  to  man, 
and  is  master  of  the  house,  he  pulls  down  that  wall, 
and  builds  a  new  and  bigger.  'Tis  only  a  question 
of  time.  Every  brave  youth  is  in  training  to  ride 


26  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

and  rule  this  dragon.  His  science  is  to  make  weap 
ons  and  wings  of  these  passions  and  retarding  forces. 
Now  whether,  seeing  these  two  things,  fate  and  pow 
er,  we  are  permitted  to  believe  in  unity  ?  The  bulk 
of  mankind  believe  in  two  gods.  They  are  under 
one  dominion  here  in  the  house,  as  friend  and  par 
ent,  in  social  circles,  in  letters,  in  art,  in  love,  in 
religion  :  but  in  mechanics,  in  dealing  with  steam 
and  climate,  in  trade,  in  politics,  they  think  they 
come  under  another  ;  and  that  it  would  be  a  prac 
tical  blunder  to  transfer  the  method  and  way  of 
working  of  one  sphere,  into  the  other.  What  good, 
honest,  generous  men  at  home,  will  be  wolves  and 
foxes  on  change  !  What  pious  men  in  the  parlor 
will  vote  for  what  reprobates  at  the  polls  !  To  a 
certain  point,  they  believe  themselves  the  care  of  a 
Providence.  But,  in  a  steamboat,  in  an  epidemic, 
in  war,  they  believe  a  malignant  energy  rules. 

But  relation  and  connection  are  not  somewhere 
and  sometimes,  but  everywhere  and  always.  The 
divine  order  does  not  stop  where  their  sight  stops. 
The  friendly  power  works  on  the  same  rules,  in  the 
next  farm,  and  the  next  planet.  But,  where  they 
have  not  experience,  they  run  against  it,  and  hurt 
themselves.  Fate,  then,  is  a  name  for  facts  not 
yet  passed  under  the  fire  of  thought ;  —  for  causes 
which  are  unpenetrated. 

But  every  jet  of  chaos  which  threatens  to  exter 
minate  us,  is  convertible  by  intellect  into  wholesome 


FATE.  27 

force.  Fate  is  impenetrated  causes.  The  water 
drowns  ship  and  sailor,  like  a  grain  of  dust.  But 
learn  to  swim,  trim  your  bark,  and  the  wave  which 
drowned  it,  will  be  cloven  by  it,  and  carry  it,  like 
its  own  foam,  a  plume  and  a 'power.  The  cold  is 
inconsiderate  of  persons,  tingles  your  blood,  freezes 
a  man  like  a  dew-drop.  But  learn  to  skate,  and 
the  ice  will  give  you  a  graceful,  sweet,  and  poetic 
motion.  The  cold  will  brace  your  limbs  and  brain 
to  genius,  and  make  you  foremost  men  of  time. 
Cold  and  sea  will  train  an  imperial  Saxon  race, 
which  nature  cannot  bear  to  lose,  and,  after  cooping 
it  up  for  a  thousand  years  in  yonder  England,  gives 
a  hundred  Englands,  a  hundred  Mexicos.  All 
the  bloods  it  shall  absorb  and  domineer:  and  more 
than  Mexicos,  —  the  secrets  of  water  and  steam,  the 
spasms  of  electricity,  the  ductility  of  metals,  the  char 
iot  of  the  air,  the  ruddered  balloon  are  awaiting  you. 
The  annual  slaughter  from  typhus  far  exceeds 
that  of  war ;  but  right  drainage  destroys  typhus. 
The  plague  in  the  sea-service  from  scurvy  is  healed 
by  lemon  juice  and  other  diets  portable  or  pro 
curable  :  the  depopulation  by  cholera  and  small-pox 
is  ended  by  drainage  and  vaccination ;  and  every 
other  pest  is  not  less  in  the  chain  of  cause  and 
effect,  and  may  be  fought  off.  And,  whilst  art 
draws  out  the  venom,  it  commonly  extorts  some 
benefit  from  the  vanquished  enemy.  The  mis 
chievous  torrent  is  taught  to  drudge  for  man  :  the 


28  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE.  . 

wild  beasts  he  makes  useful  for  food,  or  dress,  or 
labor ;  the  chemic  explosions  are  controlled  like  his 
watch.  These  are  now  the  steeds  on  which  he 
rides.  Man  moves  in  all  modes,  by  legs  of  horses, 
by  wings  of  wind,  by  steam,  by  gas  of  balloon,  by 
electricity,  and  stands  on  tiptoe  threatening  to  hunt 
the  eagle  in  his  own  element.  There's  nothing  he 
will  not  make  his  carrier. 

Steam  was,  till  the  other  day,  the  devil  which  we 
dreaded.  Every  pot  made  by  any  human  potter  or 
brazier  had  a  hole  in  its  cover,  to  let  off  the  enemy, 
lest  he  should  lift  pot  and  roof,  and  carry  the  house 
away.  But  the  Marquis  of  Worcester,  Watt,  and 
Fulton  bethought  themselves,  that,  where  was  pow 
er,  was  not  devil,  but  was  God  ;  that  it  must  be 
availed  of,  and  not  by  any  means  let  off  and  wasted. 
Could  he  lift  pots  and  roofs  and  houses  so  handily  ? 
he  was  the  workman  they  were  in  search  of.  He 
could  be  used  to  lift  away,  chain,  and  compel  other 
devils,  far  more  reluctant  and  dangerous,  namely, 
cubic  miles  of  earth,  mountains,  weight  or  resist 
ance  of  water,  machinery,  and  the  labors  of  all 
men  in  the  world  ;  and  time  he  shall  lengthen,  and 
shorten  space. 

It  has  not  fared  much  otherwise  with  higher 
kinds  of  steam.  The  opinion  of  the  million  was 
the  terror  of  the  world,  and  it  was  attempted, 
either  to  dissipate  it,  by  amusing  nations,  or  to 
pile  it  over  with  strata  of  society,  —  a  layer  of 


FATE.  29 

soldiers  ;  over  that,  a  layer  of  lords  ;  and  a  king 
on  the  top  ;  with  clamps  and  hoops  of  castles,  gar 
risons,  and  police.  But,  sometimes,  the  religious 
principle  would  get  in,  and  burst  the  hoops,  and 
rive  every  mountain  laid  on  top  of  it.  The  Fultons 
and  Watts  of  politics,  believing  in  unity,  saw  that 
it  was  a  power,  and,  by  satisfying  it,  (as  justice 
satisfies  everybody,)  through  a  different  disposition 
of  society,  —  grouping  it  on  a  level,  instead  of  piling 
it  into  a  mountain,  —  they  have  contrived  to  make 
of  this  terror  the  most  harmless  and  energetic  form 
of  a  State. 

Very  odious,  I  confess,  are  the  lessons  of  Fate. 
Who  likes  to  have  a  dapper  phrenologist  pronounc 
ing  on  his  fortunes  ?  Who  likes  to  believe  that 
he  has  hidden  in  his  skull,  spine,  and  pelvis,  all  the 
vices  of  a  Saxon  or  Celtic  race,  which  will  be  sure 
to  pull  him  down,  —  with  what  grandeur  of  hope 
and  resolve  he  is  fired,  —  into  a  selfish,  huckstering, 
servile,  dodging  animal  ?  A  learned  physician  tells 
us,  the  fact  is  invariable  with  the  Neapolitan,  that, 
when  mature,  he  assumes  the  forms  of  the  unmis 
takable  scoundrel.  That  is  a  little  overstated, — 
but  may  pass. 

But  these  are  magazines  and  arsenals.  A  man 
must  thank  his  defects,  and  stand  in  some  terror 
of  his  talents.  A  transcendent  talent  draws  so 
largely  on  his  forces,  as  to  lame  him  ;  a  defect  pays 
him  revenues  on  the  other  side.  The  sufferance, 


30  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

which  is  the  badge  of  the  Jew,  has  made  him,  in 
these  days,  the  ruler  of  the  rulers  of  the  earth. 
If  Fate  is  ore  and  quarry,  if  evil  is  good  in  the 
'making,  if  limitation  is  power  that  shall  be,  if  ca 
lamities,  oppositions,  and  weights  are  wings  and 
means,  —  we  are  reconciled. 

Fate  involves  the  melioration.  No  statement  of 
the  Universe  can  have  any  soundness,  which  does 
not  admit  its  ascending  effort.  The  direction  of  the 
whole,  and  of  the  parts,  is  toward  benefit,  and  in 
proportion  to  the  health.  Behind  every  individual, 
closes  organization :  before  him,  opens  liberty,  — 
the  Better,  the  Best.  The  first  and  worst  races  are 
dead.  The  second  and  imperfect  races  are  dying 
out,  or  remain  for  the  maturing  of  higher.  In  the 
latest  race,  in  man,  every  generosity,  every  new 
perception,  the  love  and  praise  he  extorts  from  his 
fellows,  are  certificates  of  advance  out  of  fate  into 
freedom.  Liberation  of  the  will  from  the  sheaths 
and  clogs  of  organization  which  he  has  outgrown, 
is  the  end  and  aim  of  this  world.  Every  calamity 
is  a  spur  and  valuable  hint ;  and  where  his  en 
deavors  do  not  yet  fully  avail,  they  tell  as  tendency. 
The  whole  circle  of  animal  life,  —  tooth  against 
tooth,  —  devouring  war,  war  for  food,  a  yelp  of  pain 
and  a  grunt  of  triumph,  until,  at  last,  the  whole 
menagerie,  the  whole  chemical  mass  is  mellowed 
and  refined  for  higher  use,  —  pleases  at  a  sufficient 
perspective. 


FATE.  31 

But  to  see  how  fate  slides  into  freedom,  and  free 
dom  into  fate,  observe  how  far  the  roots  of  every 
creature  run,  or  find,  if  you  can,  a  point  where 
there  is  no  thread  of  connection.  Our  life  is  con 
sentaneous  and  far-related.  This  knot  of  nature  is 
so  well  tied,  that  nobody  was  ever  cunning  enough 
to  find  the  two  ends.  Nature  is  intricate,  over 
lapped,  interweaved,  and  endless.  Christopher 
Wren  said  of  the  beautiful  King's  College  chapel, 
"  that,  if  anybody  would  tell  him  where  to  lay  the 
first  stone,  he  would  build  such  another."  But 
where  shall  we  find  the  first  atom  in  this  house  of 
man,  which  is  all  consent,  inosculation,  and  balance 
of  parts  ? 

The  web  of  relation  is  shown  mTiabitat,  shown  in 
hybernation.  When  hybernation  was  observed,  it 
was  found,  that,  whilst  some  animals  became  torpid 
in  winter,  others  were  torpid  in  summer :  hyberna 
tion  then  was  a  false  name.  The  long  sleep  is  not 
an  effect  of  cold,  but  is  regulated  by  the  supply  of 
food  proper  to  the  animal.  It  becomes  torpid  when 
the  fruit  or  prey  it  lives  on  is  not  in  season,  and 
regains  its  activity  when  its  food  is  ready. 

Eyes  are  found  in  light ;  ears  in  auricular  air  ; 
feet  on  land  ;  fins  in  water ;  wings  in  air ;  and, 
each  creature  where  it  was  meant  to  be,  with  a 
mutual  fitness.  Every  zone  has  its  own  Fauna. 
There  is  adjustment  between  the  animal  and  its 
food,  its  parasite,  its  enemy.  Balances  are  kept. 


32  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

It  is  not  allowed  to  diminish  in  numbers,  nor  to  ex 
ceed.  The  like  adjustments  exist  for  man.  His 
food  is  cooked,  when  he  arrives ;  his  coal  in  the  pit ; 
the  house  ventilated  ;  the  mud  of  the  deluge  dried ; 
his  companions  arrived  at  the  same  hour,  and  await 
ing  him  with  love,  concert,  laughter,  and  tears. 
These  are  coarse  adjustments,  but  the  invisible  are 
not  less.  There  are  more  belongings  to  every  crea- 
.ture  than  his  air  and  his  food.  His  instincts  must 
be  met,  and  he  has  predisposing  power  that  bends 
and  fits  what  is  near  him  to  his  use.  He  is  not 
possible  until  the  invisible  things  are  right  for  him, 
as  well  as  the  visible.  Of  what  changes,  then, 
in  sky  and  earth,  and  in  finer  skies  and  earths, 
does  the  appearance  of  some  Dante  or  Columbus 
apprise  us  ! 

How  is  this  effected  ?  Nature  is  no  spendthrift, 
but  takes  the  shortest  way  to  her  ends.  As  the 
general  says  to  his  soldiers,  "  if  you  want  a  fort, 
build  a  fort,"  so  nature  makes  every  creature  do  its 
own  work  and  get  its  living,  —  is  it  planet,  animal, 
or  tree.  The  planet  makes  itself.  The  animal  cell 
makes  itself;  —  then,  what  it  wants.  „ Every  crea 
ture,  —  wren  or  dragon,  —  shall  make  its  own  lair. 
As  soon  as  there  is  life,  there  is  self-direction,  and 
absorbing  and  using  of  material.  Life  is  freedom,  — 
life  in  the  direct  ratio  of  its  amount.  You  may  be 
sure,  the  new-born  man  is  not  inert.  Life  works  / 
both  voluntarily  and  supernaturally  in  its  neighbor-  *  • 


FATE.        .  33 

hood.  Do  you  suppose,  he  can  be  estimated  by  his 
weight  in  pounds,  or,  that  he  is  contained  in  his 
skin,  —  this  reaching,  radiating,  jaculating  fellow  ? 
The  smallest  candle  fills  a  mile  with  its  rays,  and 
the  papillae  of  a  man  run  out  to  every  star. 

When  there  is  something  to  be  done,  the  world 
knows  how  to  get  it  done.  The  vegetable  eye 
makes  leaf,  pericarp,  root,  bark,  or  thorn,  as  the 
need  is  ;  the  first  cell  converts  itself  into  stomach, 
mouth,  nose,  or  nail,  according  to  the  want :  the 
world  throws  its  life  into  a  hero  or  a  shepherd ;  and 
puts  him  where  he  is  wanted.  Dante  and  Colum 
bus  were  Italians,  in  their  time  :  they  would  be 
Russians  or  Americans  to-day.  Things  ripen,  new 
men  come.  The  adaptation^  not  capricious.  The 
ulterior  aim,  the  purpose  beyond  itself,  the  correla 
tion  by  which  planets  subside  and  crystallize,  then 
animate  beasts  and  men,  will  not  stop,  but  will  work 
into  fiijer  particulars,  and'  from  finer  to  finest. 

The  secret  of  the  world  is,  the  tie  between  person 
and  event.  Person  makes  event,  and  event  person. 
The  "times,"  "the  age,"  what  is  that,  but  a  few  pro 
found  persons  and  a  few  active  persons  who  epitomize 
the  times  ? —  Goethe,  Hegel,  Metternich,  Adams, 
Calhoun,  Guizot,  Peel,  Cobden,  Kossuth,  Roths 
child,  Astor,  Brunei,  and  the  rest.  The  same  fit 
ness  must  be  presumed  between  a  man  and  the  time 
and  event,  as  between  the  sexes,  or  between  a  race 
of  animals  and  the  food  it  eats,  or  the  inferior  races 

2* 


34  CONDUCT  OF  LIFE. 

it  uses.  He  thinks  his  fate  alien,  because  the  copula 
is  hidden.  But  the  soul  contains  the  event  that 
shall  befall  it,  for  the  event  is  only  the  actualization 
of  its  thoughts ;  and  what  we  pray  to  ourselves  for 
is  always  granted.  The  event  is  the  print  of  your 
form.  It  fits  you  like  your  skin.  What  each  does 
is  proper  to  him.  Events  are  the  children  of  his 
body  and  mind.  We  learn  that  the  soul  of  Fate  is 
the  soul  of  us,  as  Hafiz  sings, 

Alas!  till  now  I  had  not  known, 

My  guide  and  fortune's  guide  are  one. 

All  the  toys  that  infatuate  men,  and  which  they  t 
play  for,  —  houses,  land,  money,  luxury,  power, 
fame,  are  the  selfsame  thing,  with  a  new  gauze  or 
two  of  illusion  overlaid.  And  of  all  the  drums  and 
rattles  by  which  men  are  made  willing  to  have  their 
heads  broke,  and  are  led  out  solemnly  every  morn 
ing  to  parade,  —  the  most  admirable  is  this  by  which 
we  are  brought  to  believe  that  events  are  arbitrary, 
and  independent  of  actions.  At  the  conjuror's,  we 
detect  the  hair  by  which  he  moves  his  puppet,  but 
we  have  not  eyes  sharp  enough  to  descry  the  thread 
that  ties  cause  and  effect. 

Nature  magically  suits  the  man  to  his  fortunes, 
by  making  these  the  fruit  of  his  character.  Ducks 
take  to  the  water,  eagles,  to  the  sky,  waders  to  the 
sea  margin,  hunters  to  the  forest,  clerks  to  counting- 
rooms,  soldiers  to  the  frontier.  Thus  events  grow 
on  the  same  stem  with  persons  ;  are  sub-persons. 


FATE.  35 

The  pleasure  of  life  is  according  to  the  man  that 
Jives  it,  and  not  according  to  the  work  or  the  place. 
Life  is  an  ecstasy.  We  know  what  madness  be 
longs  to  love, —  what  power  to  paint  a  vile  object 
in  hues  of  heaven.  As  insane  persons  are  indiffer 
ent  to  their  dress,  diet,  and  other  accommodations, 
and,  as  we  do  in  dreams,  with  equanimity,  the  most 
absurd  acts,  so,  a  drop  more  of  wine  in  our  cup  of 
life  will  reconcile  us  to  strange  company  and  work. 
Each  creature  puts  forth  from  itself  its  own  con 
dition  and  sphere,  as  the  slug  sweats  out  its  slimy 
house  on  the  pear-leaf,  and  the  woolly  aphides  on 
the  apple  perspire  their  own  bed,  and  the  fish  its 
shell.  In  youth,  we  clothe  ourselves  with  rainbows, 
and  go  as  brave  as  the  zodiac.  In  age,  we  put  out 
another  sort  of  perspiration,  —  gout,  fever,  rheuma 
tism,  caprice,  doubt,  fretting,  and  avarice. 

A  man's  fortunes  are  the  fruit  of  his  character. 
A  man's  friends  are  his  magnetisms.  We  go  to 
Herodotus  and  Plutarch  for  examples  of  Fate ; 
but  we  are  examples.  "  Quisque  suos  patimur 
ma^es."  The  tendency  of  every  man  to  enact 
all  that  is  in  his  constitution  is  expressed  in  the 
old  belief,  that  the  efforts  which  we  make  to  es 
cape  from  our  destiny  only  serve  to  lead  us  into 
it :  and  I  have  noticed,  a  man  likes  better  to  be 
complimented  on  his  position,  as  tne  proof  of  the 
last  or  total  excellence,  than  on  his  merits. 

A  man  will   see   his   character   emitted   in   the 


36  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

events  that  seem  to  meet,  but  which  exude  from 
and  accompany  him.  Events  expand  with  the 
character.  As  once  he  found  himself  among  toys, 
so  now  he  plays  a  part  in  colossal  systems,  and  his 
growth  is  declared  in  his  ambition,  his  companions, 
and  his  performance.  He  looks  like  a  piece  of  luck, 
but  is  a  piece  of  causation  ;  —  the  mosaic,  angulated 
and  ground  to  fit  into  the  gap  he  fills.  Hence  in 
each  town  there  is  some  man  who  is,  in  his  brain 
and  performance,  an  explanation  of  the  tillage,  pro 
duction,  factories,  banks,  churches,  ways  of  living, 
and  society,  of  that  town.  If  you  do  not  chance  to 
meet  him,  all  that  you  see  will  leave  you  a  little 
puzzled  :  if  you  see  him,  it  will  become  plain.  We 
know  in  Massachusetts  who  built  New  Bedford, 
who  built  Lynn,  Lowell,  Lawrence,  Clinton,  Fitch- 
burg,  Holyoke,  Portland,  and  many  another  noisy 
mart.  Each  of  these  men,  if  they  were  trans 
parent,  would  seem  to  you  not  so  much  men,  as 
walking  cities,  and,  wherever  you  put  them,  they 
would  build  one. 

History  is  the  action  and  reaction  of  these  two, 
—  Nature  and  Thought ;  —  two  boys  pushing  each 
other  on  the  curb-stone  of  the  pavement.  Every 
thing  is  pusher  or  pushed :  and  matter  and  mind 
are  in  perpetual  tilt  and  balance,  so.  Whilst  the 
man  is  weak,  the  earth  takes  up  him.  -He  plants 
his  brain  and  affections.  By  and  by  he  will  take 
up  the  earth,  and  have  his  gardens  and  vineyards 


FATE.  37 

in  the  beautiful  order  and  productiveness  of  his 
thought.  Every  solid  in  the  universe  is  ready  to 
become  fluid  on  the  approach  of  the  mind,  and  the 
power  to  flux  it  is  the  measure  of  the  mind.  If 
the  wall  remain  adamant,  it  accuses  the  want  of 
thought.  To  a  subtler  force,  it  will  stream  into 
new  forms,  expressive  of  the  character  of  the  mind. 
What  is  the  city  in  "which  we  sit  here,  but  an  aggre 
gate  of  incongruous  materials,  which  have  obeyed 
the  will  of  some  man  ?  The  granite  was  reluctant, 
but  his  hands  were  stronger,  and  it  came.  Iron  was 
deep  in  the  ground,  and  well  combined  with  stone  ; 
but  could  not  hide  from  his  fires.  Wood,  lime, 
stuffs,  fruits,  gums,  were  dispersed  over  the  earth 
and  sea,  in  vain.  Here  they  are,  within  reach  of 
every  man's  day-labor,  —  what  he  wants  of  them. 
The  whole  world  is  the  flux  of  matter  over  the 
wires  of  thought  to  the  poles  or  points  where  it 
would  build.  The  races  of  men  rise  out  of  the 
ground  preoccupied  with  a  thought  which  rules 
them,  and  divided  into  parties  ready  armed  and 
angry  to  fight  for  this  metaphysical  abstraction. 
The  quality  of  the  thought  differences  the  Egyp 
tian  and  the  Roman,  the  Austrian  and  the  Amer 
ican.  The  men  who  come  on  the  stage  at  one 
period  are  all  found  to  be  related  to  each  other. 
Certain  ideas  are  in  the  air.  We  are  all  im 
pressionable,  for  we  are  made  of  them ;  all  impres 
sionable,  but  some  more  than  others,  and  these  first 


38  CONDUCT    OF  LIFE. 

express  them.  This  explains  the  curious  contem 
poraneousness  of  inventions  and  discoveries.  The 
truth  is  in  the  air,  and  the  most  impressionable 
brain  will  announce  it  first,  but  all  will  announce 
it  a  few  minutes  later.  So  women,  as  most  sus 
ceptible,  are  the  best  index  of  the  coming  hour. 
So  the  great  man,  that  is,  the  man  most  imbued 
with  the  spirit  of  the  time,  is  the  impressionable 
man,  —  Of  a  fibre  irritable  and  delicate,  like  iodine 
to  light.  He  feels  the  infinitesimal  attractions. 
His  mind  is  righter  than  others,  because  he  yields 
to  a  current  so  feeble  as  can  be  felt  only  by  a  needle 
delicately  poised. 

The  correlation  is  shown  in  defects.  Moller,  in 
his  Essay  on  Architecture,  taught  that  the  building 
which  was  fitted  accurately  to  answer  its  end,  would 
turn  out  to  be  beautiful,  though  beauty  had  not 
been  intended.  I  find  the  like  unity  in  human 
structures  rather  virulent  and  pervasive ;  that  a 
crudity  in  the  blood  will  appear  in  the  argument ; 
a  hump  in  the  shoulder  will  appear  in  the  speech 
and  handiwork.  If  his  mind  could  be  seen,  the 
hump  would  be  seen.  If  a  man  has  a  seesaw  in 
his  voice,  it  will  run  into  his  sentences,  into  his 
poem,  into  the  structure  of  his  fable,  into  his  specu 
lation,  into  his  charity.  And,  as  every  man  is 
hunted  by  his  own  daemon,  vexed  by  his  own  dis 
ease,  this  checks  all  his  activity. 

So  each  man,  like  each  plant,  has  his  parasites. 


FATE.  39 

A  strong,  astringent,  bilious  nature  has  more  trucu 
lent  enemies  than  the  slugs  and  moths  that  fret  my 
leaves.  Such  an  one  has  curculios,  borers,  knife- 
worms  :  a  swindler  ate  him  first,  then  a  client, 
then  a  quack,  then  smooth,  plausible  gentlemen, 
bitter  and  selfish  as  Moloch. 

This  correlation  really  existing  can  be  divined. 
If  the  threads  are  there,  thought  can  follow  and 
show  them.  Especially  when  a  soul  is  quick  and 
docile ;  as  Chaucer  sings, 

"  Or  if  the  soul  of  proper  kind 
Be  so  perfect  as  men  find, 
That  it  wot  what  is  to  come, 
And  that  he  warneth  all  and  some 
Of  every  of  their  aventures, 
By  previsions  or  figures; 
But  that  our  flesh  hath  not  might 
It  to  understand  aright 
For  it  is  warned  too  darkly."  — 

Some  people  are  made  up  of  rhyme,  coincidence, 
omen,  periodicity,  and  presage  :  they  meet  the 
person  they  seek  ;  what  their  companion  prepares 
to  say  to  them,  they  first  say  to  him  ;  and  a  hun 
dred  signs  apprise  them  of  what  is  about  to  befall. 
Wonderful  intricacy  in  the  web,  wonderful  con 
stancy  in  the  design  this  vagabond  life  admits.  We 
wonder  how  the-  fly  finds  its  mate,  and  yet  year 
after  year  we  find  two  men,  two  women,  without 
legal  or  carnal  tie,  spend  a  great  part  of  their  best 
time  within  a  few  feet  of  each  other.  And  the 


40  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

moral  is,  that  what  we  seek  we  shall  find;  what 
we  flee  from  flees  from  us  ;  as  Goethe  said,  "  what 
we  wish  for  in  youth,  comes  in  heaps  on  us  in 
old  age,"  too  often  cursed  with  the  granting  of  our 
prayer :  and  hence  the  high  caution,  that,  since 
we  are  sure  of  having  what  we  wish,  we  beware 
to  ask  only  for  high  things. 

One  key,  one  solution  to  the  mysteries  of  human 
condition,  one  solution  to  the  old  knots  of  fate, 
freedom,  and  foreknowledge,  exists,  the  propound 
ing,  namely,  of  the  double  consciousness.  A  man 
must  ride  alternately  on  the  horses  of  his  private 
and  his  public  nature,  as  the  equestrians  in  the 
circus  throw  themselves  nimbly  from  horse  to  horse, 
or  plant  one  foot  on  the  back  of  one,  and  the  other 
foot  on  the  back  of  the  other.  So  when  a  man  is 
the  victim  of  his  fate,  has  sciatica  in  his  loins,  and 
cramp  in  his  mind ;  a  club-foot  and  a  club  in  his 
wit ;  a  sour  face,  and  a  selfish  temper ;  a  strut  in 
his  gait,  and  a  conceit  in  his  affection  ;  or  is  ground 
to  powder  by  the  vice  of  his  race  ;  he  is  to  rally  on 
his  relation  to  the  Universe,  which  his  ruin  benefits. 
Leaving  the  daemon  who  suffers,  he  is  to  take  sides 
with  the  Deity  who  secures  universal  benefit  by  his 
pain. 

To  offset  the  drag  of  temperament  and  race, 
which  pulls  down,  learn  this  lesson,  namely,  that 
by  the  cunning  co-presence  of  two  elements,  which 
is  throughout  nature,  whatever  lames  or  paralyzes 


FATE.  41 

you,  draws  in  with  it  the  divinity,  in  some  form,  to 
repay.  A  good  intention  clothes  itself  with  sudden 
power.  When  a  god  wishes  to  ride,  any  chip  or 
pebble  will  bud  and  shoot  out  winged  feet,  and 
serve  him  for  a  horse. 

Let  us  build  altars  to  the  Blessed  Unity  which 
holds  nature  and  souls  in  perfect  solution,  and  com 
pels  every  atom  to  serve  an  universal  end.  I  do 
not  wonder  at  a  snow-flake,  a  shell,  a  summer  land 
scape,  or  the  glory  of  the  stars ;  but  at  the  necessity 
of  beauty  under  which  the  universe  lies ;  that  all 
is  and  must  be  pictorial ;  that  the  rainbow,  and 
the  curve  of  the  horizon,  and  the  arch  of  the  blue 
vault  are  only  results  from  the  organism  of  the  eye. 
There  is  no  need  for  foolish  amateurs  to  fetch  me  to 
-admire  a  garden  of  flowers,  or  a  sun-gilt  cloud,  or 
a  waterfall,  when  I  cannot  look  without  seeing 
splendor  and  grace.  How  idle  to  choose  a  random 
sparkle  here  or  there,  when  the  indwelling  neces 
sity  plants  the  rose  of  beauty  on  the  brow  of  chaos, 
and  discloses  the  central  intention  of  Nature  to  be 
harmony  and  joy. 

Let  us  build  altars  to  the  Beautiful  Necessity. 
If  we  thought  men  were  free  in  the  sense,  that,  in 
a  single  exception  one  fantastical  will  could  prevail 
over  the  law  of  things,  it  were  all  one  as  if  a  child's 
hand  could  pull  down  the  sun.  If,  in  the  least  par 
ticular,  one  could  derange  the  order  of  nature,  — 
who  would  accept  the  gift  of  life  ? 


42  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

Let  us  build  altars  to  the  Beautiful  Necessity, 
which  secures  that  all  is  made  of  one  piece  ;  that 
plaintiff  and  defendant,  friend  and  enemy,  animal 
and  planet,  food  and  eater,  are  of  one  kind.  In 
astronomy,  is  vast  space,  but  no  foreign  system  ;  in 
geology,  vast  time,  but  the  same  laws  as  to-day. 
Why  should  we  be  afraid  of  Nature,  which  is  no 
other  than  "  philosophy  and  theology  embodied  "  ? 
Why  should  we  fear  to  be  crushed  by  savage  ele 
ments,  we  who  are  made  up  of  the  same  elements  ? 
Let  us  build  to  the  Beautiful  Necessity,  which 
makes  man  brave  in  believing  that  he  cannot  shun 
a  danger  that  is  appointed,  nor  incur  one  that  is 
not ;  to  the  Necessity  which  rudely  or  softly  edu 
cates  him  to  the  perception  that  there  are  no  con 
tingencies  ;  that  Law  rules  throughout  existence,  a 
Law  which  is  not  intelligent  but  intelligence,  — 
not  personal  nor  impersonal,  —  it  disdains  words 
and  passes  understanding ;  it  dissolves  persons ;  it 
vivifies  nature ;  yet  solicits  the  pure  in  heart  to 
draw  on  all  its  omnipotence. 


II. 
POWEK. 


His  tongue  was  framed  to  music, 
And  his  hand  was  armed  with  skill, 
His  face  was  the  mould  of  beauty, 
And  his  heart  the  throne  of  will. 


POWER. 

THERE  is  not  yet  any  inventory  of  a  man's  fac 
ulties,  any  more  than  a  bible  of  his  opinions.  Who 
shall  set  a  limit  to  the  influence  of  a  human  being  ? 
There  are  men,  who,  by  their  sympathetic  attrac 
tions,  carry  nations  with  them,  and  lead  the  activity 
of  the  human  race.  And  if  there  be  such  a  tie, 
that,  wherever  the  mind  of  man  goes,  -nature  will 
accompany  him,  perhaps  there  are  men  whose  mag 
netisms  are  of  that  force  to  draw  material  and  ele 
mental  powers,  and,  where  they  appear,  immense 
instrumentalities  organize  around  them.  Life  is  a  /* 
search  after  power ;  and  this  is  an  element  with  /' 
which  the  world  is  so  saturated,  —  there  is  no  chink 
or  crevice  in  which  it  is  not  lodged,  —  that  no  hon 
est  seeking  goes  unrewarded.  A  man  should  prize 
events  and  possessions  as  the  ore  in  which  this  fine 
mineral  is  found ;  and  he  can  well  afford  to  let 
events  and  possessions,  and  the  breath  of  the  body 
go,  if  their  value  has  been  added  to  him  in  the  shape 
of  power.  If  he  have  secured  the  elixir,  he  can 
spare  the  wide  gardens  from  which  it  was  distilled. 
A  cultivated  man,  wise  to  know  and  bold  to  per- 


46  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

form,  is  the  end  to  which  nature  works,  and  the 
education  of  the  will  is  the  flowering  and  result  of 
all  this  geology  and  astronomy. 

All  successful  men  have  agreed  in  one  thing,  — 
they  were  causatwnists.  They  believed  that  things 
went  not  by  luck,  but  by  law  ;  that  there  was  not 
a  weak  or  a  cracked  link  in  the  chain  that  joins  the 
first  and  last  of  things.  A  belief  in  causality,  or 
strict  connection  between  every  trifle  and  the  prin 
ciple  of  being,  and,  in  consequence,  belief  in  com 
pensation,  or,  that  nothing  is  got  for  nothing, — 
characterizes  all  valuable  minds,  and  must  control 
every  effort  that  is  made  by  an  industrious  one. 
The  most"  valiant  men  are  the  best  believers  in 
the  tension  of  the  laws.  "  All  the  great  cap 
tains,"  said  Bonaparte,  "  have  performed  vast 
achievements  by  conforming  with  the  rules  of  the 
art,  —  by  adjusting  efforts  to  obstacles." 

The  key  to  the  age  may  be  this,  or  that,  or  the 
other,  as  the  young  orators  describe ;  —  the  key  to 
all  ages  is  —  Imbecility ;  imbecility  in  the  vast 
majority  of  men,  at  all  times,  and,  even  in  heroes, 
in  all  but  certain  eminent  moments ;  victims  of 
gravity,  custom,  and  fear.  This  gives  force  to  the 
strong,  —  that  the  multitude  have  no  habit  of  self- 
reliance  or  original  action. 

We  must  reckon  success  a  constitutional  trait. 
Courage,  — the  ojd  physicians  taught,  (and  their 
meaning  holds,  if  their  physiology  is  a  little  myth- 


POWER.  47 

ical,)  —  courage,  or  the  degree  of  life,  is  as  the  de 
gree  of  circulation  of  the  blood  in  the  arteries. 
44  During  passion,  anger,  fury,  trials  of  strength, 
wrestling,  fighting,  a  large  amount  of  blood  is  col 
lected  in  the  arteries,  the  maintenance  of  bodily 
strength  requiring  it,  and  but  little  is  sent  into  the 
veins.  This  condition  is  constant  with  intrepid 
persons."  Where  the  arteries  hold  their  blood,  is 
courage  and  adventure  possible.  Where  they  pour 
it  unrestrained  into  the  veins,  the  spirit  is  low  and 
feeble.  For  performance  of  great  mark,  it  needs 
extraordinary  health.  If  Eric  is  in  robust  health, 
and  has  slept  well,  and  is  at  the  top  of  his  con 
dition,  and  thirty  years  old,  at  his  departure  from 
Greenland,  he  will  steer  west,  and  his  ships  will 
reach  Newfoundland.  But  take  out  Eric,  and  put 
in  a  stronger  and  bolder  man,  —  Biorn,  or  Thorfin, 
—  and  the  ships  will,  with  just  as  much  ease, 
sail  six  hundred,  one  thousand,  fifteen  hundred 
miles  further,  and  reach  Labrador  and  New  Eng 
land.  There  is  no  chance  in  results.  With  adults, 
as  with  children,  one  class  enter  cordially  into  the 
game,  and  whirl  with  the  whirling  world ;  the 
others  have  cold  hands,  and  remain  bystanders  ;  or 
are  only  dragged  in  by  the  humor  and  vivacity  of 
those  who  can  carry  a  dead  weight.  The  first 
wealth  is  health.  Sickness  is  poor-spirited,  and 
cannot  serve  any  one :  it  must  husband  its  resources 
to  live.  But  health  or  fulness  answers  its  own  ends, 


48  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

and  has  to  spare,  runs  over,  and  inundates  the  neigh 
borhoods  and  creeks  of  other  men's  necessities. 

All  power  is  of  one  kind,  a  sharing  of  the  nature 
of  the  world.  The  mind  that  is  parallel  with  the 
laws  of  nature  will  be  in  the  current  of  events,  and 
strong  with  their  strength.  One  man  is  made  of 
the  same  stuff  of  which  events  are  made  ;  is  in 
sympathy  with  the  course  of  things  ;  can  predict  it. 
Whatever  befalls,  befalls  him  first ;  so  that  he  is 
equal  to  whatever  shall  happen.  A  man  who  knows 
men,  can  talk  well  on  politics,  trade,  law,  war,  re 
ligion.  For,  everywhere,  men  are  led  in  the  same 
manners. 

The  advantage  of  a  strong  pulse  is  not  to  be  sup 
plied  by  any  labor,  art,  or  concert.  It  is  like  the 
climate,  which  easily  rears  a  crop,  which  no  glass, 
or  irrigation,  or  tillage,  or  manures,  can  elsewhere 
rival.  It  is  like  the  opportunity  of  a  city  like  New 
York,  or  Constantinople,  which  needs  no  diplomacy 
to  force  capital  or  genius  or  labor  to  it.  <  They  come 
of  themselves,  as  the  waters  flow  to  it.  So  a  broad, 
healthy,  massive  understanding  seems  to  lie  on  the 
shore  of  unseen  rivers,  of  unseen  oceans,  which  are 
covered  with  barks,  that,  night  and  day,  are  drifted 
to  this  point.  That  is  poured  into  its  lap,  which 
other  men  lie  plotting  for.  It  is  in  everybody's 
secret ;  anticipates  everybody's  discovery  ;  and  if  it 
do  not  command  every  fact  of  the  genius  and  the 
scholar,  it  is  because  it  is  large  and  sluggish,  and 


POWER.  49 

does  not  think  them  worth  the  exertion  which  you 
do. 

This  affirmative  force  is  in  one,  and  is  not  in 
another,  as  one  horse  has  the  spring  in  him,  and 
another  in  the  whip.  "  On  the  neck  of  the  young 
man,"  said  Hafiz,  "  sparkles  no  gem  so  gracious  as 
enterprise."  Import  into  any  stationary  district, 
as  into  an  old  «Dutch  population  in  New  York  or 
Pennsylvania,  or  among  the  planters  of  Virginia, 
a  colony  of  hardy  Yankees,  with  seething  brains, 
heads  full  of  steam-hammer,  pulley,  crank,  and 
toothed  wheel,  —  and  everything  begins  to  shine 
with  values.  What  enhancement  to  all  the  water 
and  land  in  England,  is  the  arrival  of  James  Watt 
or  Brunei !  In  every  company,  there  is  not  only 
the  active  and  passive  sex,  but,  in  both  men  and 
women,  a  deeper  and  more  important  sex  of  mind, 
namely,  the  inventive  or  creative  class  of  both  men 
and  women,  and  the  uninventive  or  accepting  class. 
Each  plus  man  represents  his  set,  and,  if  he  have 
the  accidental  advantage  of  personal  ascendency,  — 
which  implies  neither  more  nor  less  of  talent,  but 
merely  the  temperamental  or  taming  eye  of  a  soldier 
or  a  schoolmaster,  (which  one  has,  and  one  has  not, 
as  one  has  a  black  moustache  and  one  a  blond,) 
then  quite  easily  and  without  envy  or  resistance,  all 
his  coadjutors  and  feeders  will  admit  his  right  to 
absorb  them.  The  merchant  works  by  book-keeper 
and  cashier ;  the  lawyer's  authorities  are  hunted  up 


50  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

by  clerks  ;  the  geologist  reports  the  surveys  of  his 
subalterns ;  Commander  Wilkes  appropriates  the 
results  of  all  the  naturalists  attached  to  the  Expe 
dition  ;  Thorwaldsen's  statue  is  finished  by  stone 
cutters  ;  Dumas  has  journeymen  ;  and  Shakspeare 
was  theatre-manager,  and  used  the  labor  of  many 
young  men,  as  well  as  the  playbooks. 

There  is  always  room  for  a  man  of  force,  and 
he  makes  room  for  many.  Society  is  a  troop  of 
thinkers,  and  the  best  heads  among  them  take  the 
best  places.  A  feeble  man  can  see  the  farms  that 
are  fenced  and  tilled,  the  houses  that  are  built. 
The  strong  man  sees  the  possible  houses  and  farms. 
His  eye  makes  estates,  as  fast  as  the  sun  breeds 
clouds. 

When  a  new  boy  comes  into  school,  when  a 
man  travels,  and  encounters  strangers  every  day, 
or,  when  into  any  old  club  a  new  comer  is  domes 
ticated,  that  happens  which  befalls,  when  a  strange 
ox  is  driven  into  a  pen  or  pasture  where  cattle  are 
kept;  there  is  at  once  a  trial  of  strength  between 
the  best  pair  of  horns  and  the  new  comer,  and  it  is 
settled  thenceforth  which  is  the  leader.  So  now, 
there  is  a  measuring  of  strength,  very  courteous, 
but  decisive,  and  an  acquiescence  thenceforward 
when  these  two  meet.  Each  reads  his  fate  in  the 
other's  eyes.  The  weaker  party  finds,  that  none 
of  his  information  or  wit  quite  fits  the  occasion. 
He  thought  he  knew  this  or  that :  he  finds  that  he 


POWER.  51 

omitted  to  learn  the  end  of  it.     Nothing  that  he 

e> 

knows  will  quite  hit  the  mark,  whilst  all  the  rival's 
arrows  are  good,  and  well  thrown.  But  if  he  knew 
all  the  facts  in  the  encyclopaedia,  it  would  not  help 
him  :  for  this  is  an  affair  of  presence  of  mind,  of 
attitude,  of  aplomb  :  the  opponent  has  the  sun  and 
wind,  and,  in  every  cast,  the  choice  of  weapon  and 
mark ;  and,  when  he  himself  is  matched  with  some 
other  antagonist,  his  own  shafts  fly  well  and  hit. 
'Tis  a  question  of  stomach  and  constitution.  The 
second  man  is  as  good  as  the  first, — perhaps  better; 
but  has  not  stoutness  or  stomach,  as  the  first  has, 
and  so  his  wit  seems  over-fine  or  under-fine. 

Health  is  good,  —  power,  life,  that  resists  disease, 
poison,  and  all  enemies,  and  is  conservative,  as 
well  as  creative.  Here  is  question,  every  spring, 
whether  to  graft  with  wax,  or  whether  with  clay ; 
whether  to  whitewash  or  to  potash,  or  to  prune ;  but 
the  one  point  is  the  thrifty  tree.  A  good  tree,  that 
agrees  with  the  soil,  will  grow  in  spite  of  blight,  or 
bug,  or  pruning,  or  neglect,  by  night  and  by  day,  in 
all  weathers  and  all  treatments.  Vivacity,  leader 
ship,  must  be  had,  and  we  are  not  allowed  to  be 
nice  in  choosing.  We  must  fetch  the  pump  with 
dirty  water,  if  clean  cannot  be  had.  If  w«  will 
make  bread,  we  must  have  contagion,  yeast,  empty 
ings,  or  what  not,  to  induce  fermentation  into  the 
dough  :  as  the  torpid  artist  seeks  inspiration  at  any 
sost,  by  virtue  or  by  vice,  by  friend  or  by  fiend,  by 


52  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

prayer  or  by  wine.  And  we  have  a  certain  instinct, 
that  where  is  great  amount  of  life,  though  gross  and 
peccant,  it  has  its  own  checks  and  purifications,  and 
will  be  found  at  last  in  harmony  with  moral  laws. 

We  watch  in  children  with  pathetic  interest,  the 
degree  in  which  they  possess  recuperative  force. 
When  they  are  hurt  by  us,  or  by  each  other,  or  go 
to  the  bottom  of  the  class,  or  miss  the  annual  prizes, 
or  are  beaten  in  the  game,  —  if  they  lose  heart,  and 
remember  the  mischance  in  their  chamber  at  home, 
they  have  a  serious  check.  But  if  they  have  the 
buoyancy  and  resistance  that  preoccupies  them  with 
new  interest  in  the  new  moment,  —  the  wounds 
cicatrize,  and  the  fibre  is  the  tougher  for  the  hurt. 

One  comes   to  value  this  plus  health,  when  he 
sees  that  all  difficulties  vanish  before  it.     A  timid 
man  listening  to  the  alarmists  in  Congress,  and  in 
the  newspapers,   and   observing   the   profligacy   of 
party,  —  sectional  interests  urged  with  a  fury  which 
shuts  its  eyes  to  consequences,  with  a  mind  made 
up  to  desperate  extremities,  ballot  in  one  hand,  and  I 
rifle  in  the   other,  —  might  easily  believe  that  he 
and  his  country  have  seen  their  best  days,  and  he 
hardens  himself  the  best  he  can  against  the  com-- 
ing  ruin.      But,  after  this  has  been  foretold  withi 
equal  confidence  fifty  times,  and  government  six  per 
cents  have  not  declined  a  quarter  of  a  mill,  he  dis-- 
covers   that    the    enormous    elements    of    strength) 
which  are  here  in  play,  make  our  politics  unim- 


POWER.  53 

portant.  Personal  power,  freedom,  and  the  re 
sources  of  nature  strain  every  faculty  of  every 
citizen.  We  prosper  with  such  vigor,  that,  like 
thrifty  trees,  which  grow  in  spite  of  ice,  lice,  mice, 
and  borers,  so  we  do  not  suffer  from  the  profligate 
swarms  that  fatten  on  the  national  treasury.  The 
huge  animals  nourish  huge  parasites,  and  the  rancor 
of  the  disease  attests  the  strength  of  the  constitu 
tion.  The  same  energy  in  the  Greek  Demos  drew 
the  remark,  that  the  evils  of  popular  government 
appear  greater  than  they  are  ;  there  is  compensa 
tion  for  them  in  the  spirit  and  energy  it  awakens. 
The  rough  and  ready  style  which  belongs  to  a 
people  of  sailors,  foresters,  farmers,  and  mechanics, 
has  its  advantages.  Power  educates  the  potentate. 
As  long  as  our  people  quote  English  standards 
they  dwarf  their  own  proportions.  A  Western 
lawyer  of  eminence  said  to  me  he  wished  it  were 
a  penal  offence  to  bring  an  English  law-book  into  a 
court  in  this  country,  so  pernicious  had  he  found  in 
his  experience  our  deference  to  English  precedent. 
The  very  word  '  commerce '  has  only  an  English 
meaning,  and  is  pinched  to  the  cramp  exigencies 
of  English  experience.  The  commerce  of  rivers, 
the  commerce  of  railroads,  and  who  knows  but  the 
commerce  of  air-balloons,  must  add  an  American 
extension  to  the  pond-hole  of  admiralty.  As  long 
as  our  people  quote  English  standards,  they  will  miss 
ehe  sovereignty  of  power;  but  let  these  rough  riders, 


54  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

—  legislators  in  shirt-sleeves,  —  Hoosier,  Sucker, 
Wolverine,  Badger,  —  or  whatever  hard  head  Ar 
kansas,  Oregon,  or  Utah  sends,  half  orator,  half 
assassin,  to  represent  its  wrath  and  cupidity  at 
Washington,  —  let  these  drive  as  they  may;  and 
the  disposition  of  territories  and  public  lands,  the 
necessity  of  balancing  and  keeping  at  bay  the 
snarling  majorities  of  German,  Irish,  and  of  na 
tive  millions,  will  bestow  promptness,  address,  and 
reason,  at  last,  on  our  buffalo-hunter,  and  authority 
and  majesty  of  manners.  The  instinct  of  the  people 
is  right.  Men  expect  from  good  whigs,  put  into 
office  by  the  respectability  of  the  country,  much  less 
skill  to  deal  with  Mexico,  Spain,  Britain,  or  with 
our  own  malcontent  members,  than  from  some 
strong  transgressor,  like  Jefferson,  or  Jackson,  who 
first  conquers  his  own  government,  and  then  uses 
the  same  genius  to  conquer  the  foreigner.  The 
senators  who  dissented  from  Mr.  Folk's  Mexican 
war,  were  not  those  who  knew  better,  but  those 
who,  from  political  position,  could  afford  it ;  not 
Webster,  but  Benton  and  Calhoun. 

This  power,  to  be  sure,  is  not  clothed  in  satin. 
'Tis  the  power  of  Lynch  law,  of  soldiers  and  pi 
rates  ;  and  it  bullies  the  peaceable  and  loyal.  But 
it  brings  its  own  antidote  ;  and  here  is  my  point, — 
that  all  kinds  of  power  usually  emerge  at  the  same 
time  ;  good  energy,  and  bad  ;  power  of  mind,  with 
physical  health  ;  the  ecstasies  of  devotion,  with  the 


POWER.  55 

exasperations  of  debauchery.  The  same  elements 
are  always  present,  only  sometimes  these  con 
spicuous,  and  sometimes  those  ;  what  was  yesterday 
foreground,  being  to-day  background,  —  what  was 
surface,  playing  now  a  not  less  effective  part  as 
basis.  The  longer  the  drought  lasts,  the  more  is 
the  atmosphere  surcharged  with  water.  The  faster 
the  ball  falls  to  the  sun,  the  force  to  fly  off  is  by  so 
much  augmented.  And,  in  morals,  wild  liberty 
breeds  iron  conscience  ;  natures  with  great  impulses 
have  great  resources,  and  return  from  far.  In  poli 
tics,  the  sons  of  democrats  will  be  whigs  ;  whilst  red 
republicanism,  in  the  father,  is  a  spasm  of  nature 
to  engender  an  intolerable  tyrant  in  the  next  age. 
On  the  other  hand,  conservatism,  ever  more  tim 
orous  and  narrow,  disgusts  the  children,  and  drives 
them  for  a  mouthful  of  fresh  air  into  radicalism. 

Those  who  have  most  of  this  coarse  energy,  — 
the  4  bruisers,'  who  have  run  the  gauntlet  of  caucus 
and  tavern  through  the  county  or  the  state,  have 
their  own  vices,  but  they  have  the  good  nature  of 
strength  and  courage.  Fierce  and  unscrupulous, 
they  are  usually  frank  and  direct,  and  above  false 
hood.  Our  politics  fall  into  bad  hands,  and  church 
men  and  men  of  refinement,  it  seems  agreed,  are 
not  fit  persons  to  send  to  Congress.  Politics  is  a 
deleterious  profession,  like  some  poisonous  handi 
crafts.  Men  in  power  have  no  opinions,  but  may 
be  had  cheap  for  any  opinion,  for  any  purpose,  — 


56  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

and  if  it  be  only  a  question  between  the  most  civil 
and  the  most  forcible,  I  lean  to  the  last.  These 
Hoosiers  and  Suckers  are  really  better  than  the 
snivelling  opposition.  Their  wrath  is  at  least  of  a 
bold  and  manly  cast.  They  see,  against  the  unani 
mous  declarations  of  the  people,  how  much  crime 
the  people  will  bear ;  they  proceed  from  step  to  step, 
and  they  have  calculated  but  too  justly  upon  their 
Excellencies,  the  New  England  governors,  and  upon 
their  Honors,  the  New  England  legislators.  The 
messages  of  the  governors  and  the  resolutions  of  the 
legislatures,  are  a  proverb  for  expressing  a  sham  vir 
tuous  indignation,  which,  in  the  course  of  events, 
is  sure  to  be  belied. 

In  trade,  also,  this  energy  usually  carries  a  trace 
of  ferocity.  Philanthropic  and  religious  bodies  do 
not  commonly  make  their  executive  officers  out 
of  saints.  The  communities  hitherto  founded  by 
Socialists,  —  the  Jesuits,  the  Port-Royalists,  the 
American  communities  at  New  Harmony,  at  Brook 
Farm,  at  Zoar,  are  only  possible,  by  installing  Judas 
as  steward.  The  rest  of  the  offices  may  be  filled 
by  good  burgesses.  The  pious  and  charitable  pro^- 
prietor  has  a  foreman  not  quite  so  pious  and  char 
itable.  The  most  amiable  of  country  gentlemen  has 
a  certain  pleasure  in  the  teeth  of  the  bull-dog  which 
guards  his  orchard.  Of  the  Shaker  society,  it  was 
formerly  a  sort  of  proverb  in  the  country,  that  they 
always  sent  the  devil  to  market.  And  in  repre- 


POWER.  57 


sentations  of  the  Deity,  painting,  poetry,  and  pop 
ular  religion  have  ever  drawn  the  wrath  from  Hell. 
It  is  an  esoteric  doctrine  of  society,  that  a  little 
wickedness  is  good  to  make  muscle ;  as  if  conscience 
were  not  good  for  hands  and  legs,  as  if  poor  de 
cayed  formalists  of  law  and  order  cannot  run  like 
wild  goats,  wolves,  and  conies  ;  that,  as  there  is  a 
use  in  medicine  for  poisons,  so  the  world  cannot 
move  without  rogues ;  that  public  spirit  and  the 
ready  hand  are  as  well  found  among  the  malig- 
nants.  'Tis  not  very  rare,  the  coincidence  of  sharp 
private  and  political  practice,  with  public  spirit,  and 
good  neighborhood. 

I  knew  a  burly  Boniface  who  for  many  years 
kept  a  public-house  in  one  of  our  rural  capitals. 
He  was  a  knave  whom  the  town  could  ill  spare. 
He  was  a  social,  vascular  creature,  grasping  and 
selfish.  There  was  no  crime  which  he  did  not  or 
could  not  commit.  But  he  made  good  friends  of 
the  selectmen,  served  them  with  his  best  chop,  when 
they  supped  at  his  house,  and  also  with  his  honor 
the  Judge,  he  was  very  cordial,  grasping  his  hand. 
He  introduced  all  the  fiends,  male  and  female,  into 
the  town,  and  united  in  his  person  the  functions  of 
bully,  incendiary,  swindler,  barkeeper,  and  burglar. 
He  girdled  the  trees,  and  cut  off  the  horses'  tails  of 
the  temperance  people,  in  the  night.  He  led  the 
'  rummies '  and  radicals  in  town-meeting  with  a 
speech.  Meantime,  he  was  civil,  fat,  and  easy,  in 


58  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

his  house,  and  precisely  the  most  public-spirited 
citizen.  He  was  active  in  getting  the  roads  re 
paired  and  planted  with  shade-trees  ;  he  subscribed 
for  the  fountains,  the  gas,  and  the  telegraph  ;  he 
introduced  the  new  horse-rake,  the  new  scraper,  the 
baby-jumper,  and  what  not,  that  Connecticut  sends 
to  the  admiring  citizens.  He  did  this  the  easier, 
that  the  peddler  stopped  at  his  house,  and  paid  his 
keeping,  by  setting  up  his  new  trap  on  the  land 
lord's  premises. 

Whilst  thus  the  energy  for  originating  and  exe 
cuting  work,  deforms  itself  by  excess,  and  so  our 
axe  chops  off  our  own  fingers,  —  this  evil  is  not 
without  remedy.  All  the  elements  whose  aid  man 
calls  in,  will  sometimes  become  his  masters,  espe 
cially  those  of  most  subtle  force.  Shall  he,  then, 
renounce  steam,  fire,  and  electricity,  or,  shall  he 
learn  to  deal  with  them  ?  The  rule  for  this  whole 
class  of  agencies  is,  —  all  plus  is  good ;  only  put 
it  in  the  right  place. 

Men  of  this  surcharge  of  arterial  blood  cannot 
live  on  nuts,  herb-tea,  and  elegies ;  cannot  read 
novels,  and  play  whist ;  cannot  satisfy  all  their 
wants  at  the  Thursday  Lecture,  or  the  Boston 
Athenaeum.  They  pine  for  adventure,  and  must 
go  to  Pike's  Peak  ;  had  rather  die  by  the  hatchet 
of  a  Pawnee,  than  sit  all  day  and  every  day  at  a 
counting-room  desk.  They  are  made  for  war,  for 
the  sea,  for  mining,  hunting,  and  clearing;  for 


POWER.  59 

hair-breadth  adventures,  huge  risks,  and  the  joy  of 
eventful  living.  Some  men  cannot  endure  an  hour 
of  calm  at  sea.  I  remember  a  poor  Malay  cook,  on 
board  a  Liverpool  packet,  who,  when  the  wind  blew 
a  gale,  could  not  contain  his  joy ;  "  Blow  I "  he 
cried,  "  me  do  tell  you,  blow  ! "  Their  friends  and 
governors  must  see  that  some  vent  for  their  ex 
plosive  complexion  is  provided.  The  roisters  who 
are  destined  for  infamy  at  home,  if  sent  to  Mexico, 
will  "  cover  you  with  glory,"  and  come  back  heroes 
and  generals.  There  are  Oregons,  Californias, 
and  Exploring  Expeditions  enough  appertaining  to 
America,  to  find  them  in  files  to  gnaw,  and  in 
crocodiles  to  eat.  The  young  English  are  fine  ani 
mals,  full  of  blood,  and  when  they  have  no  wars  to 
breathe  their  riotous  valors  in,  they  seek  for  travels 
as  dangerous  as  war,  diving  into  Maelstroms  ;  swim 
ming  Hellesponts ;  wading  up  the  snowy  Himmaleh ; 
hunting  lion,  rhinoceros,  elephant,  in  South  Africa ; 
gypsy  ing  with  Borrow  in  Spain  and  Algiers  ;  riding 
alligators  in  South  America  with  Waterton  ;  util 
izing  Bedouin,  Sheik,  and  Pacha,  with  Layard ; 
yachting  among  the  icebergs  of  Lancaster  Sound  : 
peeping  into  craters  on  the  equator ;  or  running  on 
the  creases  of  Malays  in  Borneo. 

The  excess  of  virility  has  the  same  importance 
in  general  history,  as  in  private  and  industrial  life. 
Strong  race  or  strong  individual  rests  at  last  on  nat 
ural  forces,  which  are  best  in  the  savage,  who,  like 


60  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

the  beasts  around  him,  is  still  in  reception  of  the 
milk  from  the  teats  of  Nature.  Cut  off  the  con 
nection  between  any  of  our  works,  and  this  aborig 
inal  source,  and  the  work  is  shallow.  The  people 
lean  on  this,  and  the  mob  is  not  quite  so  bad  an 
argument  as  we  sometimes  say,  for  it  has  this  good 
side.  "  March  without  the  people,"  said  a  French 
deputy  from  the  tribune,  "  and  you  march  into 
night :  their  instincts  are  a  finger-pointing  of  Provi 
dence,  always  turned  toward  real  benefit.  But 
when  you  espouse  an  Orleans  party,  or  a  Bourbon, 
or  a  Montalembert  party,  or  any  other  but  an  or 
ganic  party,  though  you  mean  well,  you  have  a  per 
sonality  instead  of  a  principle,  which  will  inevitably 
drag  you  into  a  corner." 

The  best  anecdotes  of  this  force  are  to  be  had 
from  savage  life,  in  explorers,  soldiers,  and  bucca 
neers.  But  who  cares  for  fallings-out  of  assassins, 
and  fights  of  bears,  or  grindings  of  icebergs  ?  Phys 
ical  force  has  no  value,  where  there  is  nothing 
else.  Snow  in  snow-banks,  fire  in  volcanoes  and 
solfataras  is  cheap.  The  luxury  of  ice  is  in  tropical 
countries,  and  midsummer  days.  The  luxury  of  fire 
is,  to  have  a  little  on  our  hearth  :  and  of  electricity, 
not  volleys  of  the  charged  cloud,  but  the  manage 
able  stream  on  the  battery- wires.  So  of  spirit, 
or  energy ;  the  rests  or  remains  of  it  in  the  civil 
and  moral  man,  are  worth  all  the  cannibals  in  the 
Pacific. 


POWER.  61 

In  history,  the  great  moment  is,  when  the  savage 
is  just  ceasing  to  be  a  savage,  with  all  his  hairy 
Pelasgic  strength  directed  on  his  opening  sense 
of  heauty  :  —  and  you  have  Pericles  and  Phidias, 
—  not  yet  passed  over  into  the  Corinthian  civil 
ity.  Everything  good  in  nature  and  the  world 
is  in  that  moment  of  transition,  when  the  swarthy 
juices  still  flow  plentifully  from  nature,  but  their 
astringency  or  acridity  is  got  out  by  ethics  and 
humanity. 

The  triumphs  of  peace  have  been  in  some  prox 
imity  to  war.  Whilst  the  hand  was  still  familiar 
with  the  sword-hilt,  whilst  the  habits  of  the  camp 
were  still  visible  in  the  port  and  complexion  of  the 
gentleman,  his  intellectual  power  culminated :  the 
compression  and  tension  of  these  stern  conditions  is 
a  training  for  the  finest  and  softest  arts,  and  can 
rarely  be  compensated  in  tranquil  times,  except  by 
some  analogous  vigor  drawn  from  occupations  as 
hardy  as  war. 

We  say  that  success  is  constitutional ;  depends  on 
a  plus  condition  of  mind  and  body,  on  power  of 
work,  on  courage  ;  that  it  is  of  main  efficacy  in  car 
rying  on  the  world,  and,  though  rarely  found  in  the 
right  state  for  an  article  of  commerce,  but  oftener  in 
the  supersaturate  or  excess,  which  makes  it  danger 
ous  and  destructive,  yet  it  cannot  be  spared,  and 
must  be  had  in  that  form,  and  absorbents  provided 
to  take  off  its  edge. 


62  CONDUCT  OF  LIFE. 

The  affirmative  class  monopolize  the  homage  of 
mankind.  They  originate  and  execute  all  the  great 
feats.  What  a  force  was  coiled  up  in  the  skull  of 
Napoleon !  Of  the  sixty  thousand  men  making  his 
army  at  Eylau,  it  seems  some  thirty  thousand  were 
thieves  and  burglars.  The  men  whom,  in  peaceful 
communities,  we  hold  if  we  can,  with  iron  at  their 
legs,  in  prisons,  under  the  muskets  of  sentinels,  this 
man  dealt  with,  hand  to  hand,  dragged  them  to 
their  duty,  and  won. his  victories  by  their  bayonets. 

This  aboriginal  might  gives  a  surprising  pleasure 
when  it  appears  under  conditions  of  supreme  refine 
ment,  as  in  the  proficients  in  high  art.  When 
Michel  Angelo  was  forced  to  paint  the  Sistine 
Chapel  in  fresco,  of  which  art  he  knew  nothing, 
he  went  down  into  the  Pope's  gardens  behind  the 
Vatican,  and  with  a  shovel  dug  out  ochres,  red  and 
yellow,  mixed  them  with  glue  and  water  with  his 
own  hands,  and  having,  after  many  trials,  at  last 
suited  himself,  climbed  his  ladders,  and  painted 
away,  week  after  week,  month  after  month,  the 
sibyls  and  prophets.  He  surpassed  his  successors 
in  rough  vigor,  as  much  as  in  purity  of  intellect  and 
refinement.  He  was  not  crushed  by  his  one  picture 
left  unfinished  at  last.  Michel  was  wont  to  draw 
his  figures  first  in  skeleton,  then  to  clothe  them  with 
flesh,  and  lastly  to  drape  them.  "  Ah  !  "  said  a 
brave  painter  to  me,  thinking  on  these  things,  "if 
a  man  has  failed,  you  will  find  he  has  dreamed 


POWER.  63 

instead  of  working.  There  is  no  way  to  success  in 
our  art,  but  to  take  off  your  coat,  grind  paint,  and 
work  like  a  digger  on  the  railroad,  all  day  and  every 
day." 

Success  goes  thus  invariably  with  a  certain  plus 
or  positive  power  :  an  ounce  of  power  must  balance 
an  ounce  of  weight.  And,  though  a  man  cannot 
return  into  his  mother's  womb,  and  be  born  with 
new  amounts  of  vivacity,  yet  there  are  two  econo 
mies,  which  are  the  best  succedanea  which  the  case 
admits.  The  first  is,  the  stopping  off  decisively 
our  miscellaneous  .activity,  and  concentrating  our 
force  on  one  or  a  few  points  ;  as  the  gardener,  by 
severe  pruning,  forces  the  sap  of  the  tree  into  one  i 
or  two  vigorous  limbs,  instead  of  suffering  it  to 
spindle  into  a  sheaf  of  twigs. 

"  Enlarge  not  thy  destiny,"  said  the  oracle  : 
"  endeavor  not  to  do  more  than  is  given  thee  in 
charge."  The  one  prudence  in  life  is  concentra 
tion  ;  the  one  evil  is  dissipation  :  and  it  makes  no 
difference  whether  our  dissipations  are  coarse  or 
fine  ;  property  and  its  cares,  friends,  and  a  social 
habit,  or  politics,  or  music,  or  feasting.  Everything 
is  good  which  takes  away  one  plaything  and  delu 
sion  more,  and  drives  us  home  to  add  one  stroke 
of  faithful  work.  Friends,  books,  pictures,  lower 
duties,  talents,  flatteries,  hopes,  —  all  are  distrac 
tions  which  cause  oscillations  in  our  giddy  balloon^ 
and  make  a  good  poise  and  a  straight  course  impos- 


64  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

sible.  You  must  elect  your  work ;  you  shall  take 
what  your  brain  can,  and  drop  all  the  rest.  Only 
so,  can  that  amount  of  vital  force  accumulate,  which 
can  make  the  step  from  knowing  to  doing.  No  mat 
ter  how  much  faculty  of  idle  seeing  a  man  has,  the 
step  from  knowing  to  doing  is  rarely  taken.  'Tis  a 
step  out  of  a  chalk  circle  of  imbecility  into  fruitful- 
ness.  Many  an  artist  lacking  this,  lacks  all :  he  sees 
the  masculine  Angelo  or  Cellini  with  despair.  He, 
too,  is  up  to  Nature  and  the  First  Cause  in  his 
thought.  But  the  spasm  to  collect  and  swing  his 
whole  being  into  one  act,  he  has  not.  The  poet 
Campbell  said,  that  "  a  man  accustomed  to  work 
was  equal  to  any  achievement  he  resolved  on,  and, 
that,  for  himself,  necessity  not  inspiration  was  the 
prompter  of  his  muse." 

Concentration  is  the. secret  of  strength  in  politics, 
in  war,  in  trade,  in  short,  in  all  management  of  hu 
man  affairs.  One  of  the  high  anecdotes  of  the 
world  is  the  reply  of  Newton  to  the  inquiry,  "  how 
he  had  been  able  to  achieve  his  discoveries  ?  "  — 
"  By  always  intending  my  mind."  Or  if  you  will 
have  a  text  from  politics,  take  this  from  Plutarch  : 
"  There  was,  in  the  whole  city,  but  one  street  in 
which  Pericles  was  ever  seen,  the  street  which  led 
to  the  market-place  and  the  council  house.  He 
declined  all  invitations  to  banquets,  and  all  gay 
assemblies  and  company.  During  the  whole  period 
of  his  administration,  he  never  dined  at  the  table 


POWER.  65 

of  a  friend."     Or  if  we  seek  an  example  from  trade, 

—  "I  hope,"  said  a  good  man  to  Rothschild,  " your 
children  are  not  too  fond  of  money  and  business  : 
I  am   sure   you  would   not  wish  that."  —  "I  am 
sure   I   should  wish   that :    I  wish   them   to   give 
mind,  soul,  heart,  and  body  to  business,  —  that  is 
the  way  to  be  happy.     It  requires  a  great  deal  of 
boldness  and  a  great  deal  of  caution,  to  make  a 
great  fortune,  and  when  you  have  got  it,  it  requires 
ten  times  as  much  wit  to  keep  it.     If  I  were  to 
listen  to  all  the  projects  proposed  to  me,  I  should 
ruin   myself  very    soon.      Stick    to    one   business, 
young  man.     Stick  to  your  brewery,  (he  said  this 
to  young  Buxton,)  and  you  will  be  the  great  brewer 
of  London.    Be  brewer,  and  banker,  and  merchant, 
and   manufacturer,  and   you  will   soon   be  in  the 
Gazette." 

Many  men  are  knowing,  many  are  apprehensive 
and  tenacious,  but  they  do  not  rush  to  a  decision. 
But  in  our  flowing  affairs  a  decision  must  be  made, 

—  the  best,  if  you   can  ;    but  any  is  better   than 
none.     There  are  twenty  ways  of  going  to  a  point, 
and  one  is  the  shortest ;    but  set  out  at  once   on 
one.     A  man  who  has  that  presence  of  mind  which 
can  bring  to  him  on  the  instant  all  he  knows,  is 
worth  for  action  a  dozen  men  who  know  as  much, 
but  can  only  bring  it  to  light  slowly.      The  good 
Speaker  in  the  House  is  not  the  man  who  knows 
the  theory  of  parliamentary  tactics,  but  the  man 


66  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

who  decides  off-hand.  The  good  judge  is  not 
he  who  does  hair-splitting  justice  to  every  allega 
tion,  but  who,  aiming  at  substantial  justice,  rules 
something  intelligible  for  the  guidance  of  suitors. 
The  good  lawyer  is  not  the  man  who  has  an  eye  to 
every  side  and  angle  of  contingency,  and  qualifies 
all  his  qualifications,  but  who  throws  himself  on 
your  part  so  heartily,  that  he  can  get  you  out  of  a 
scrape.  Dr.  Johnson  said,  in  one  of  his  flowing 
sentences,  "  Miserable  beyond  all  names  of  wretch 
edness  is  that  unhappy  pair,  who  are  doomed  to 
reduce  beforehand  to  the  principles  of  abstract  rea 
son  all  the  details  of  each  domestic  day.  There  are 
cases  where  little  can  be  said,  and  much  must  be 
done." 

The  second  substitute  for  temperament  is  drill, 
the  power  of  use  and  routine.  The  hack  is  a  better 
roadster  than  the  Arab  barb.  In  chemistry,  the 
galvanic  stream,  slow,  but  continuous,  is  equal  in 
power  to  the  electric  spark,  and  is,  in  our  arts, 
a  better  agent.  So  in  human  action,  against  the 
spasm  of  energy,  we  offset  the  continuity  of  drill. 
We  spread  the  same  amount  of  force  over  much 
time,  instead  of  condensing  it  into  a  moment.  'Tis 
the  same  ounce  of  gold  here  in  a  ball,  and  there  in 
a  leaf.  At  West  Point,  Col.  Buford,  the  chief  en 
gineer,  pounded  with  a  hammer  on  the  trunnions  of 
a  cannon,  until  he  broke  them  off.  He  fired  a  piece 
of  ordnance  some  hundred  times  in  swift  succession, 


POWER.  67 

until  it  burst.  Now  which  stroke  broke  the  trun 
nion  ?  Every  stroke.  Which  blast  burst  the  piece  ? 
Every  blast.  "  Diligence  passe  sens"  Henry 
VIII.  was  wont  to  say,  or,  great  is  drill.  John 
Kemble  said,  that  the  worst  piovincial  company 
of  actors  would  go  through  a  play  better  than 
the  best  amateur  company.  Basil  Hall  likes  to 
show  that  the  worst  regular  troops  will  beat  the 
best  volunteers.  Practice  is  nine  tenths.  A  course 
of  mobs  is  good  practice  for  orators.  'All  the 
great  speakers  were  bad  speakers  at  first.  Stump 
ing  it  through  England  for  seven  years,  made 
Cobden  a  consummate  debater.  Stumping  it 
through  New  England  for  twice  seven,  trained 
Wendell  Phillips.  The  way  to  learn  German, 
is,  to  read  the  same  dozen  pages  over  and  over 
a  hundred  times,  till  you  know  every  word  and 
particle  in  them,  and  can  pronounce  and  repeat 
them  by  heart.  No  genius  can  recite  a  ballad  at 
first  reading,  so  well  as  mediocrity  can  at  the  fif 
teenth  or  twentieth  reading.  The  rule  for  hospi 
tality  and  Irish  'help,'  is,  to  have  the  same  dinner 
every  day  throughout  the  year.  At  last,  Mrs. 
O'Shaughnessy  learns  to  cook  it  to  a  nicety,  the 
host  learns  to  carve  it,  and  the  guests  are  well 
served.  A  humorous  friend  of  mine  thinks,  that 
the  reason  why  Nature  is  so  perfect  in  her  art,  and 
gets  up  such  inconceivably  fine  sunse'ts,  is,  that  she 
has  learned  how,  at  last,  by  dint  of  doing  the"  same 


68  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

thing  so  very  often.  Cannot  one  converse  better 
on  a  topic  on  which  he  has  experience,  than  on  one 
which  is  new  ?  Men  whose  opinion  is  valued  on 
'Change,  are  only  such  as  have  a  special  experience, 
and  off  that  ground  their  opinion  is  not  valuable. 
"  More  are  made  good  by  exercitation,  than  by  na 
ture,"  said  Democritus.  The  friction  in  nature  is 
so  enormous  that  we  cannot  spare  any  power.  It 
is  not  question  to  express  our  thought,  to  elect  our 
way,  but  to  overcome  resistances  of  the  medium 
and  material  in  everything  we  do.  Hence  the  use 
of  drill,  and  the  worthlessness  of  amateurs  to  cope 
with  practitioners.  Six  hours  every  day  at  the 
piano,  only  to  give  facility  of  touch ;  six  hours  a 
day  at  painting,  only  to  give  command  of  the  odious 
materials,  oil,  ochres,  and  brushes.  The  masters 
say,  that  they  know  a  master  in  music,  only  by  see 
ing  the  pose  of  the  hands  on  the  keys ;  —  so  difficult 
and  vital  an  act  is  the  command  of  the  instru 
ment.  To  have  learned  the  use  of  the  tools,  by 
thousands  of  manipulations  ;  to  have  learned  the 
arts  of  reckoning,  by  endless  adding  and  dividing, 
is  the  power  of  the  mechanic  and  the  clerk. 

I  remarked  in  England,  in  confirmation  of  a  fre 
quent  experience  at  home,  that,  in  literary  circles, 
the  men  of  trust  and  consideration,  bookmakers, 
editors,  university  deans  and  professors,  bishops,  too, 
were  by  no  means  men  of  the  largest  literary  tal 
ent,  but  usually  of  a  low  and  ordinary  intellectual- 


POWER.       ,  69 

ity,  with  a  sort  of  mercantile  activity  and  working 
talent.  Indifferent  hacks  and  mediocrities  tower, 
by  pushing  their  forces  to  a  lucrative  point,  or  by 
working  power,  over  multitudes  of  superior  men,  in 
Old  as  in  New  England. 

I  have  not  forgotten  that  there  are  sublime  con 
siderations  which  limit  the  value  of  talent  and  super 
ficial  success.  We  can  easily  overpraise  the  vulgar 
hero.  There  are  sources  on  which  we  have  not 
drawn.  I  know  what  I  abstain  from.  I  adjourn 
what  I  have  to  say  on  this  topic  to  the  chapters  on 
Culture  and  Worship.  But  this  force  or  spirit,  be 
ing  the  means  relied  on  by  Nature  for  bringing  the 
work  of  the  day  about,  —  as  far  as  we  attach  im 
portance  to  household  life,  and  the  prizes  of  the 
world,  we  must  respect  that.  And  I  hold,  that  an 
economy  may  be  applied  to  it ;  it  is  as  much  a  sub 
ject  of  exact  law  and  arithmetic  as  fluids  and  gases 
are  ;  it  may  be  husbanded,  or  wasted  ;  every  man 
is  efficient  only  as  he  is  a  container  or  vessel  of  this 
force,  and  never  was  any  signal  act  or  achievement  in 
history,  but  by  this  expenditure.  This  is  not  gold, 
but  the  gold-maker  ;  not  the  fame,  but  the  exploit. 

If  these  forces  and  this  husbandry  are  within 
reach  of  our  will,  and  the  laws  of  them  can  be  read, 
we  infer  that  all  success,  and  all  conceivable  benefit 
for  man,  is  also,  first  or  last,  within  his  reach,  and 
has  its  own  sublime  economies  by  which  it  may  be 
attained.  The  world  is  mathematical,  and  has  no 


70  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

casualty,  in  all  its  vast  and  flowing  curve.  Success 
has  no  more  eccentricity,  than  the  gingham  and 
muslin  we  weave  in  our  mills.  I  know  no  more 
affecting  lesson  to  our  busy,  plotting  New  England 
brains,  than  to  go  into  one  of  the  factories  with 
which  we  have  lined  all  the  watercourses  in  the 
States.  A  man  hardly  "knows  how  much  he  is  a 
machine,  until  he  begins  to  make  telegraph,  loom, 
press,  and  locomotive,  in  his  own  image.  But  in 
these,  he  is  forced  to  leave  out  his  follies  and  hin 
drances,  so  that  when  we  go  to  the  mill,  the  ma 
chine  is  more  moral  than  we.  Let  a  man  dare 
go  to  a  loom,  and  see  if  he  be  equal  to  it.  Let 
machine  confront  machine,  and  see  how  they  come 
out.  The  world-mill  is  more  complex  than  the 
calico-mill,  and  the  architect  stooped  less.  In  the 
gingham-mill,  a  broken  thread  or  a  shred  spoils  the 
web  through  a  piece  of  a  hundred  yards,  and  is 
traced  back  to  the  girl  that  wove  it,  and  lessens  her 
wages.  The  stockholder,  on  being  shown  this,  rubs 
his  hands  with  delight.  Are  you  so  cunning,  Mr. 
Profitless,  and  do  you  expect  to  swindle  your 
master  and  employer,  in  the  web  you  weave  ?  A 
day  is  a  more  magnificent  cloth  than  any  muslin, 
the  mechanism  that  makes  it  is  infinitely  cunninger, 
and  you  shall  not  conceal  the  sleezy,  fraudulent, 
rotten  hours  you  have  slipped  into  the  piece,  nor 
fear  that  any  honest  thread,  or  straighter  steel,  or 
more  inflexible  shaft,  will  not  testify  in  the  web. 


III. 
WEALTH. 


WHO  shall  tell  what  did  befall, 
Far  away  in  time,  when  once, 
Over  the  lifeless  ball, 
Hung  idle  stars  and  suns? 
What  god  the  element  obeyed? 
Wings  of  what  wind  the  lichen  bore. 
Wafting  the  puny  seeds  of  power, 
Which,  lodged  in  rock,  the  rock  abrade! 
And  well  the  primal  pioneer 
Knew  the  strong  task  to  it  assigned 
Patient  through  Heaven's  enormous  year 
To  build  in  matter  home  for  mind. 
From  air  the  creeping  centuries  drew 
The  matted  thicket  low  and  wide, 
This  must  the  leaves  of  ages  strew 
The  granite  slab  to  clothe  and  hide, 
Ere  wheat  can  wave  its  golden  pride. 
What  smiths,  and  in  what  furnace,  rolled 
(In  dizzy  aeons  dim  and  mute 
The  reeling  brain  can  ill  compute) 
Copper  and  iron,  lead,  and  gold  ? 
What  oldest  star  the  fame  can  save 
Of  races  perishing  to  pave 


72  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

The  planet  with  a  floor  of  lime? 

Dust  is  their  pyramid  and  mole : 

Who  saw  what  ferns  and  palms  were  pressed 

Under  the  tumbling  mountain's  breast, 

In  the  safe  herbal  of  the  coal? 

But  when  the  quarried  means  were  piled, 

All  is  waste  and  worthless,  till 

Arrives  the  wise  selecting  will, 

And,  out  of  slime  and  chaos,  Wit 

Draws  the  threads  of  fair  and  fit. 

Then  temples  rose,  and  towns,  and  marts, 

The  shop  of  toil,  the  hall  of  arts ; 

Then  flew  the  sail  across  the  seas 

To  feed  the  North  from  tropic  trees; 

The  storm-wind  wore,  the  torrent  span, 

Where  they  were  bid  the  rivers  ran; 

New  slaves  fulfilled  the  poet's  dream, 

Galvanic  wire,  strong-shouldered  steam. 

Then  docks  were  built,  and  crops  were  stored, 

And  ingots  added  to  the  hoard. 

But,  though  light-headed  man  forget, 

Remembering  Matter  pays  her  debt : 

Still,  through  her  motes  and  masses,  draw 

Electric  thrills  and  ties  of  Law, 

Which  bind  the  strengths  of  Nature  wild 

To  the  conscience  of  a  child. 


WEALTH. 

As  soon  as  a  stranger  is  introduced  into  any 
company,  one  of  the  first  questions  which  all  wish 
to  have  answered,  is,  How  does  that  man  get  his 
living?  And  with  reason.  He  is  no  whole  man 
until  he  knows  how  to  earn  a  blameless  livelihood. 
Society  is  barbarous,  until  every  industrious  man 
can  get  his  living  without  dishonest  customs. 

Every  man  is  a  consumer,  and  ought  to  be  a 
producer.  He  fails  to  make  his  place  good  in  the 
world,  unless  he  not  only  pays  his  debt,  but  also 
adds  something  to  the  common  wealth.  Nor  can  he 
do  justice  to  his  genius,  without  making  some  larger 
demand  on  the  world  than  a  bare  subsistence.  Ho 
is  by  constitution  expensive,  and  needs  to  be  rich. 

Wealth  has  its  source  in  applications  of  the  mind 
to  nature,  from  the  rudest  strokes  of  spade  and  axe, 
up  to  the  last  secrets  of  art.  Intimate  ties  subsist 
between  thought  and  all  production ;  because  a 
better  order  is  equivalent  to  vast  amounts  of  brute 
labor.  The  forces  and  the  resistances  are  Nature's, 
but  the  mind  acts  in  bringing  things  from  where 
they  abound  to  where  they  are  wanted  ;  in  wise 


74  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

combining ;  in  directing  the  practice  of  the  useful 
arts,  and  in  the  creation  of  finer  values,  by  fine  art, 
by  eloquence,  by  song,  or  the  reproductions  of  mem 
ory,  f  \\£ealth  is  in  applications  of  mind  to  nature  ; 
and  the  art  of  getting  rich  consists  not  in  industry, 
much  less  in  saving,  but  in  a  better  order,  in  time 
liness,  in  being  at  the  right  spot..  J  One  man  has 
stronger  arms,  or  longer  legs  ;  another  sees  by  the 
course  of  streams,  and  growth  of  markets,  where 
land  will  be  wanted,  makes  a  clearing  to  the  river, 
goes  to  sleep,  and  wakes  up  rich*  Steam  is  no 
stronger  now,  than  it  was  a  hundred  years  ago ; 
but  is  put  to  better  use.  A  clever  fellow  was 
acquainted  with  the  expansive  force  of  steam  ;  he 
also  saw  the  wealth  of  wheat  and  grass  rotting 
in  Michigan.  Then  he  cunningly  screws  on  the 
steam-pipe  to  the  wheat-crop.  Puff  now,  O  Steam  ! 
The  steam  puffs  and  expands  as  before,  but  this 
time  it  is  dragging  all  Michigan  at  its  back  to 
hungry  New  York  and  hungry  England.  Coal  lay 
in  ledges  under  the  ground  since  the  Flood,  until  a 
laborer  with  pick  and  windlass  brings  it  to  the  sur 
face.  We  may  well  call  it  black  diamonds.  Every 
basket  is  power  and  civilization.  For  coal  is  a  port 
able  climate.  It  carries  the  heat  of  the  tropics  to 
Labrador  and  the  polar  circle :  and  it  is  the  means 
of  transporting  itself  whithersoever  it  is  wanted. 
Watt  and  Stephenson  whispered  in  the  ear  of  man 
kind  their  secret,  that  a  half-ounce  of  coal  will  draw 


WEALTH.  75 

two  tons  a  mile,  and  coal  carries  coal,  by  rail  and  by 
boat,  to  make  Canada  as  warm  as  Calcutta,  and 
with  its  comfort  brings  its  industrial  power. 

When  the  farmer's  peaches  are  taken  from  under 
the  tree,  and  carried  into  town,  they  have  a  new 
look,  and  a  hundredfold  value  over  the  fruit  which 
grew  on  the  same  bough,  and  lies  fulsomely  on  the 
ground.  The  craft  of  the  merchant  is  this  bringing 
a  thing  from  where  it  abounds,  to  where  it  is  costly. 
i  Wealth  begins  in  a  tight  roof  that  keeps  the 
rain  and  wind  out ;  in  a  good  pump  that  yields 
you  plenty  of  sweet  water  ;  in  two  suits  of  clothes, 
so  to  change  your  dress  when  you  are  wet ;  in 
dry  sticks  to  burn  ;  in  a  good  double-wick  lamp  ; 
and  three  meals  ;  in  a  horse,  or  a  locomotive,  to 
cross  the  land  ;  in  a  boat  to  cross  the  sea  ;  in  tools 
to  work  with  ;  in  books  to  read  ;  and  so,  in  giving, 
on  all  sides,  by  tools  and  auxiliaries,  the  greatest 
possible  extension  to  our  powers,  as  if  it  added  feet, 
and  hands,  and  eyes,  and  blood,  length  to  the  day, 
and  knowledge,  and  good-will^> 

Wealth  begins  with  these  articles  of  necessity. 
And  here  we  must  recite  the  iron  law  which  Na 
ture  thunders  in  these  northern  climates.  First, 
she  requires  that  each  man  should  feed  himself. 
If,  happily,  his  fathers  have  left  him  no  inher 
itance,  he  must  go  to  work,  and  by  making  his 
wants  less,  or  his  gains  more,  he  must  draw  himself 
out  of  that  state  of  pain  and  insult  in  which  she 


76  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

forces  the  beggar  to  lie.  She  gives  him  no  rest  until 
this  is  done  :  she  starves,  taunts,  and  torments  him, 
takes  away  warmth,  laughter,  sleep,  friends,  and 
daylight,  until  he  has  fought  his  way  to  his  own 
loaf.  Then,  less  peremptorily,  but  still  with  sting 
enough,  she  urges  him  to  the  acquisition  of  such 
things  as  belong  to  him.  Every  warehouse  and 
shop-window,  every  fruit-tree,  every  thought  of 
every  hour,  opens  a  new  want  to  him,  which  it 
concerns  his  power  and  dignity  to  gratify.  It  is 
of  no  use  to  argue  the  wants  down  :  the  philos 
ophers  have  laid  the  greatness  of  man  in  making  his 
wants  few  ;  but  will  a  man  content  himself  with  a 
hut  and  a  handful  of  dried  pease  ?  He  is  born  to  be 
rich.  He  is  thoroughly  related ;  and  is  tempted  out 
by  his  appetites  and  fancies  to  the  conquest  of  this 
and  that  piece  of  nature,  until  he  finds  his  well- 
being  in  the  use  of  his  planet,  and  of  more  planets 
than  his  own.  Wealth  requires,  besides  the  crust 
of  bread  and  the  roof,  —  the  freedom  of  the  city, 
the  freedom  of  the  earth,  travelling,  machinery,  the 
benefits  of  science,  music,  and  fine  arts,  the  best 
culture,  and  the  best  company.  He  is  the  rich  man 
who  can  avail  himself  of  all  men's  faculties.  He  is 
the  richest  man  who  knows  how  to  draw  a  benefit 
from  the  labors  of  the  greatest  number  of  men,  of 
men  in  distant  countries,  and  in  past  times.  The 
same  correspondence  that  is  between  thirst  in  the 
stomach,  and  water  in  the  spring,  exists  between 


-     WEALTH. 

the  whole  of  man  and  the  whole  of  nature.  The 
elements  offer  their  service  to  him.  The  sea,  wash 
ing  the  equator  and  the  poles,  offers  its  perilous  aid, 
and  the  power  and  empire  that  follow  it,  —  day 
by  day  to  his  craft  and  audacity.  "  Beware  of 
me,"  it  says,  "  but  if  you  can  hold  me,  I  am  the 
key  to  all  the  lands."  Fire  offers,  on  its  side,  an 
equal  power.  Fire,  steam,  lightning,  gravity,  ledges 
of  rock,  mines  of  iron,  lead,  quicksilver,  tin,  and 
gold  ;  forests  of  all  woods  ;  fruits  of  all  climates  ; 
animals  of  all  habits  ;  the  powers  of  tillage  ;  the 
fabrics  of  his  chemic  laboratory  ;  the  webs  of  his 
loom  ;  the  masculine  draught  of  his  locomotive,  the 
talismans  of  the  machine-shop  ;  all  grand  and  subtile 
things,  minerals,  gases,  ethers,  passions,  war,  trade, 
government,  are  his  natural  playmates,  and,  accord 
ing  to  the  excellence  of  the  machinery  in  each 
human  being,  is  his  attraction  for  the  instruments 
he  is  to  employ.  The  world  is  his  tool-chest,  and 
he  is  successful,  or  his  education  is  carried  on  just  so 
far,  as  is  the  marriage  of  his  faculties  with  nature, 
or,  the  degree  in  which  he  takes  up  things  into 
himself. 

The  strong  race  is  strong  on  these  terms.  The 
Saxons  are  the  merchants  of  the  world  ;  now,  for 
a  thousand  years,  the  leading  race,  and  by  nothing 
more  than  their  quality  of  personal  independence, 
and,  in  its  special  modification,  pecuniary  independ 
ence.  No  reliance  for  bread  and  games  on  the 


78  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

government,  no  clanship,  no  patriarchal  style  of 
living  by  the  revenues  of  a  chief,  no  marrying- 
on,  —  no  system  of  clientship  suits  them ;  but  every 
man  must  pay  his  scot.  The  English  are  prosper 
ous  and  peaceable,  with  their  habit  of  considering 
that  every  man  must  take  care  of  himself,  and  has 
himself  to  thank,  if  he  do  not  maintain  and  improve 
his  position  in  society. 

The  subject  of  economy  mixes  itself  with  morals, 
inasmuch  as  it  is  a  peremptory  point  of  virtue  that 
a  man's  independence  be  secured.  Poverty  demor 
alizes.  A  man  in  debt  is  so  far  a  slave  ;  and  Wall- 
street  thinks  it  easy  for  a  millionaire  to  be  a  man 
of  his  word,  a  man  of  honor,  but,  that,  in  failing 
circumstances,  no  man  can  be  relied  on  to  keep  his 
integrity.  And  when  one  observes  in  the  hotels 
and  palaces  of  our  Atlantic  capitals,  the  habit  of 
expense,  the  riot  of  the  senses,  the  absence  of  bonds, 
clanship,  fellow-feeling  of  any  kind,  he  feels,  that, 
when  a  man  or  a  woman  is  driven  to  the  wall,  the 
chances  of  integrity  are  frightfully  diminished,  as 
if  virtue  were  coming  to  be  &  luxury  which  few 
could  afford,  or,  as  Burke  said,  "  at  a  market  almost 
too  high  for  humanity."  He  may  fix  his  inven 
tory  of  necessities  and  of  enjoyments  on  what  scale 
he  pleases,  but  if  he  wishes  the  power  and  priv 
ilege  of  thought,  the  chalking  out  his  own  career, 
and  having  society  on  his  own  terms,  he  must 
bring  his  wants  within  his  proper  power  to  satisfy. 


WEALTH.  79 

The  manly  part  is  to  do  with  might  and  main 
what  you  can  do.  The  world  is  full  of  fops  who 
never  did  anything,  and  who  have  persuaded  beau 
ties  and  men  of  genius  to  wear  their  fop  livery,  and 
these  will  deliver  the  fop  opinion,  that  it  is  not 
respectable  to  be  seen  earning  a  living ;  that  it  is 
much  more  respectable  to'  spend  without  earning ; 
and  this  doctrine  of  the  snake  will  come  also  from 
the  elect  sons  of  light ;  for  wise  men  are  not  wise 
at  all  hours,  and  will  speak  five  times  from  their 
taste  or  their  humor,  to  once  from  their  reason. 
The  brave  workman,  who  might  betray  his  feeling 
of  it  in  his  manners,  if  he  do  not  succumb  in  his 
practice,  must  replace  the  grace  or  elegance  for 
feited,  by  the  merit  of  the  work  done.  No  matter 
whether  he  make  shoes,  or  statues,  or  laws.  It  is 
the  privilege  of  any  human  work  which  is  well 
done  to  invest  the  doer  with  a  certain  haughtiness. 
He  can  well  afford  not  to  conciliate,  whose  faithful 
work  will  answer  for  him.  The  mechanic  at  his 
bench  carries  a  quiet  heart  and  assured  manners, 
and  deals  on  even  terms  with  men  of  any  condition. 
The  artist  has  made  his  picture  so  true,  that  it  dis 
concerts  criticism.  The  statue  is  so  beautiful,  that 
it  contracts  no  stain  from  the  market,  but  makes  the 
market  a  silent  gallery  for  itself.  The  case  of  the 
young  lawyer  was  pitiful  to  disgust,  —  a  paltry  mat 
ter  of  buttons  or  tweezer-cases ;  but  the  determined 
youth  saw  in  it  an  aperture  to  insert  his  dangerous 


80  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

wedges,  made  the  insignificance  of  the  thing  for 
gotten,  and  gave  fame  by  his  sense  and  energy  to 
the  name  and  affairs  of  the  Tittleton  snuffbox 
factory. . 

Society  in  large  towns,  is  babyish,  and  wealth  is 
made  a  toy.  The  life  of  pleasure  is  so  ostentatious, 
that  a  shallow  observer  must  believe  that  this  is  the 
agreed  best  use  of  wealth,  and,  whatever  is  pre 
tended,  it  ends  in  cosseting.  But,  if  this  were  the 
main  use  of  surplus  capital,  it  would  bring  us  to 
barricades,  burned  towns,  and  tomahawks,  pres 
ently.  Men  of  sense  esteem  wealth  to  be  the 
assimilation  of  nature  to  themselves,  the  converting 
of  the  sap  and  juices  of  the  planet  to  the  incarna 
tion  and  nutriment  of  their  design.  Power  is  what 
they  want,  —  not  candy  ;  —  power  to  execute  their 
design,  power  to  give  legs  and  feet,  form  and  ac 
tuality  to  their  thought,  which,  to  a  clear-sighted* 
man,  appears  the  end  for  which  the  Universe  ex 
ists,  and  all  its  resources  might  be  well  applied. 
Columbus  thinks  that  the  sphere  is  a  problem  for 
practical  navigation,  as  well  as  for  closet  geometry, 
and  looks  on  all  kings  and  peoples  as  cowardly 
landsmen,  until  they  dare  fit  him  out.  Few  men 
on  the  planet  have  more  truly  belonged  to  it.  But 
he  was  forced  to  leave  much  of  his  map  blank. 
His  successors  inherited  his  map,  and  inherited  his 
fury  to  complete  it. 

So  the  men  of  the  mine,  telegraph,  mill,  map, 


WEALTH.  81 

and  survey,  —  the  monomaniacs,  who  talk  up  their 
project  in  marts,  and  offices,  and  entreat  men  to 
subscribe  :  —  how  did  our  factories  get  built  ?  how 
did  North  America  get  netted  with  iron  rails,  ex 
cept  by  the  importunity  of  these  orators,  who 
dragged  all  the  prudent  men  in  ?  Is  party  the 
madness  of  many  for  the  gain  of  a  few  ?  This 
speculative  genius  is  the  madness  of  few  for  the  gain 
of  the  world.  The  projectors  are  sacrificed,  but  the 
public  is  the  gainer.  Each  of  these  idealists,  work 
ing  after  his  thought,  wouffi  make  it  tyrannical,  if 
he  could.  He  is  met  and  antagonized  by  other 
speculators,  as  hot  as  he.  The  equilibrium  is  pre 
served  by  these  counteractions,  as  one  tree  keeps 
down  another  in  the  forest,  that  it  may  not  absorb 
all  the  sap  in  the  ground.  And  the  supply  in 
nature  of  railroad  presidents,  copper-miners,  grand- 
junctioners,  smoke-burners,  fire-annihilators,  &c., 
is  limited  by  the  same  law  which  keeps  the  pro 
portion  in  the  supply  of  carbon,  of  alum,  and  of 
hydrogen. 

To  be  rich  is  to  have  a  ticket  of  admission  to  the 
master-works  and  chief  men  of  each  race.  It  is 
to  have  the  sea,  by  voyaging  ;  to  visit  the  moun 
tains,  Niagara,  the  Nile,  the  desert,  Rome,  Paris, 
Constantinople ;  to  see  galleries,  libraries,  arse 
nals,  manufactories.  The  reader  of  Humboldt's 
'4  Cosmos  "  follows  the  marches  of  a  man  whose 
eyes,  ears,  and  mind  are  armed  by  all  the  science, 

4* 


82  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

arts,  and  implements  which  mankind  have  any 
where  accumulated,  and  who  is  using  these  to 
add  to  the  stock.  So  is  it  with  Denon,  Beckford, 
Belzoni,  Wilkinson,  Layard,  Kane,  Lepsius,  and 
Livingston.  "  The  rich  man,"  says  Saadi,  "  is 
everywhere  expected  and  at  home."  The  rich  take 
up  something  more  of  the  world  into  man's  life. 
They  include  the  country  as  well  as  the  town,  the 
ocean-side,  the  White  Hills,  the  Far  West,  and  the 
old  European  homesteads  of  man,  in  their  notion 

/r*v 

of  available  material.  I  The  world  is  his,  who  has 
money  to  go  over  it.j  He  arrives  at  the  sea-shore, 
and  a  sumptuous  snip  has  floored  and  carpeted  for 
him  the  stormy  Atlantic,  and  made  it  a  luxurious 
hotel,  amid  the  horrors  of  tempest?.  The  Persians 
.  say,  "  'Tis  the  same  to  him  who  wears  a  shoe,  as  if 
the  whole  earth  were  covered  with  leather." 

Kings  are  said  to  have  long  arms,  but  every  man 
should  have  long  arms,  and  should  pluck  his  living, 
his  instruments,  his  power,  and  his  knowing,  from 
the  sun,  moon,  and  stars.     Is  not  then  the  demand 
i  to  be  rich  legitimate  ?     Yet,  I  have  never  seen  a 
1  rich  man.     I  have  never  seen  a  man  as  rich  as  all 
i  men  ought  to  be,  or,  with  an  adequate  command  of 
nature.     The  pulpit  and  the  press  have  many  com 
monplaces   denouncing  the   thirst  for  wealth ;   but 
if  men  should  take  these  moralists  at  their  word, 
and  leave  off  aiming  to  be  rich,  the  moralists  would 
rush  to  rekindle  at  all  hazards  this  love  of  power  in 


WEALTH.  83 

the  people,  lest  civilization  should  be  undone.  \  Men 
are  urged  by  their  ideas  to  acquire  the  command 
over  nature.  j\  Ages  derive  a  culture  from  the 
wealth  of  Roman  Caesars,  Leo  Tenths,  magnificent 
Kings  of  France,  Grand  Dukes  of  Tuscany,  Dukes 
of  Devonshire,  Townleys,  Vernons,  and  Peels,  in 
England  ;  or  whatever  great  proprietors."  It  is  the 
interest  of  all  men,  that  there  should  be  Vaticans 
and  Louvres  full  of  noble  works  of  art ;  British 
Museums,  and  French  Gardens  of  Plants,  Phila 
delphia  Academies  of  Natural  History,  Bodleian, 
Ambrosian,  Royal,  Congressional  Libraries.  It  is 
the  interest  of  all  that  there  should  be  Explor 
ing  Expeditions  ;  Captain  Cooks  to  voyage  round 
the  world,  Rosses,  Franklins,  Richardsons,  and 
Kanes,  to  find  the  magnetic  and  the  geographic 
poles.  We  are  all  richer  for  the  measurement  of 
a  degree  of  latitude  on  the  earth's  surface.  Our 
navigation  is  safer  for  the  chart.  How  intimately 
our  knowledge  of  the  system  of  the  Universe 
rests  on  that !  —  and  a  true  economy  in  a  state 
or  an  individual  will  forget  its  frugality  in  behalf 
of  claims  like  these. 

Whilst  it  is  each  man's  interest,  that,  not  only 
ease  and  convenience  of  living,  but  also  wealth  or 
surplus  product  should  exist  somewhere,  it  need 
not  be  in  his  hands.  Often  it  is  very  undesirable 
to  him.  Goethe  said  well,  "  nobody  should  be 
rich  but  'those  who  understand  it."  Some  men 


84  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

are  born  to  own,  and  can  animate  all  their  posses 
sions.  Others  cannot :  their  owning  is  not  grace 
ful  ;  seems  to  be  a  compromise  of  their  character : 
they  seem  to  steal  their  own  dividends.  \They 
should  own  who  can  administer ;  not  they  who 
hoard  and  conceal ;  not  they  who,  the  greater  pro 
prietors  they  are,  are  only  the  greater  beggars,  but 
they  whose  work  carves  out  work  for  more,  opens 
a  path  for  all.  For  he  is  the  rich  man  in  whom  the 
people  are  rich,  and  he  is  the  poor  man  in  whom 
the  people  are  poor :  and  how  to  give  all  access  to 
the  masterpieces  of  art  and  nature,  is  the  problem 
of  civilization.  ^  The  socialism  of  our  day  has  done 
good  service  in  setting  men  on  thinking  how  certain 
civilizing  benefits,  now  only  enjoyed  by  the  opulent, 
can  be  enjoyed  by  all.  For  example,  the  providing 
to  each  man  the  means  and  apparatus  of  science, 
and  of  the  arts.  There  are  many  articles  good  for 
occasional  use,  which  few  men  are  able  to  own. 
Every  man  wishes  to  see  the  ring  of  Saturn,  the 
satellites  and  belts  of  Jupiter  and  Mars ;  the  moun 
tains  and  craters  in  the  moon  :  yet  how  few  can 
buy  a  telescope !  and  of  those,  scarcely  one  would 
like  the  trouble  of  keeping  it  in  order,  and  exhibit 
ing  it.  So  of  electrical  and  chemical  apparatus,  and 
many  the  like  things.  Every  man  may  have  occa 
sion  to  consult  books  which  he  does  not  care  to 
possess,  such  as  cyclopaedias,  dictionaries,  tables, 
charts,  maps,  and  public  documents  :  pictures  also 


WEALTH.  85 

of  birds,  beasts,  fishes,  shells,  trees,  flowers,  whose 
names  he  desires  to  know. 

There  is  a  refining  influence  from  the  arts  of 
Design  on  a  prepared  mind,  which  is  as  positive  as 
that  of  music,  and  not  to  be  supplied  from  any 
other  source.  But  pictures,  engravings,  statues,  and 
casts,  beside  their  first  cost,  entail  expenses,  as  of 
galleries  and  keepers  for  the  exhibition  ;  and  the 
use  which  any  man  can  make  of  them  is  rare,  and 
their  value,  too,  is  much  enhanced  by  the  numbers 
of  men  who  can  share  their  enjoyment.  In  the 
Greek  cities,  it  was  reckoned  profane,  that  any 
person  should  pretend  a  property  in  a  work  of  art, 
which  belonged  to  all  who  could  behold  it.  I  think 
sometimes,  —  could  I  only  have  music  on  my  own 
terms  ;  —  could  I  live  in  a  great  city,  and  know 
where  I  could  go  whenever  I  wished  the  ablution 
and  inundation  of  musical  waves,  —  that  were  a 
bath  and  a  medicine. 

If  properties  of  this  kind  were  owned  by  states, 
towns,  and  lyceums,  they  would  draw  the  bonds 
of  neighborhood  closer.  A  town  would  exist  to  an 
intellectual  purpose.  In  Europe,  where  the  feudal 
forms  secure  the  permanence  of  wealth  in  certain 
families,  those  families  buy  and  preserve  these 
things,  and  lay  them  open  to  the  public.  But  in 
America,  where  democratic  institutions  divide  every 
estate  into  small  portions,  after  a  few  years,  the 
public  should  step  into  the  place  of  these  proprie- 


86  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

tors,  and  provide  this  culture  and  inspiration  for  the 
citizen. 

Man  was  born  to  be  rich,  or,  inevitably  grows 
rich  by  the  use  of  his  faculties  ;  by  ..the  union  of 
thought  with  nature.  Property  is  an  intellectual 
jIFoduction.  ^T?he  game  requires  coolness,  right 
Jfeasoning,  promptness,  and  patience  in  the  players. 
Cultivated  labor  drives  out  brute  labor.  An  infi 
nite  number  of  shrewd  men,  in  infinite  years,  have 
arrived  at  certain  best  and  shortest  ways  of  doing, 
and  this  accumulated  skill  in  arts,  cultures,  harvest 
ings,  curings,  manufactures,  navigations,  exchanges, 
constitutes  the  worth  of  our  world  to-day. 

Commerce  is  a  game  of  skill,  which  every  man 
cannot  play,  which  few  men  can  play  well.  The 
right  merchant  is  one  who  has  the  just  average  of 
faculties  we  call  common  sense ;  a  man  of  a  strong 
affinity  for  facts,  who  makes  up  his  decision  on  what 
he  has  seen.  He  is  thoroughly  persuaded  of  the 
truths  of  arithmetic.  There  is  always  a  reason,  in 
the  man,  for  his  good  or  bad  fortune,  and  so,  in 
making  money.  Men  talk  as  if  there  were  some 
magic  about  this,  and  believe  in  magic,  in  all  parts 
of  life.  He  knows,  that  all  goes  on  the  old  road, 
pound  for  pound,  cent  for  cent,  —  for  every  effect  a 
perfect  cause,  —  and  that  good  luck  is  another  name 
for  tenacity  of  purpose.  He  insures  himself  in  every 
transaction,  and  likes  small  and  sure  gains.  Probity 
and  closeness  to  the  facts  are  the  basis,  but  the  mas- 


ittfr, 
n-dor 


WEALTH.  87 

ters  of  the  art  add  a  certain  long  arithmetic.  The 
-problem  is,  to  combine  many  and  remote  opera 
tions,  with  the  accuracy  and  adherence  to  the  facts, 
which  is  easy  in  near  and  small  transactions  ;  so  to 
arrive  at  gigantic  results,  without  any  compromise 
of  safety.  Napoleon  was  fond  of  telling  the 
of  the  Marseilles  banker,  who  said  to  his  visi 
surprised  at  the  contrast  between  the  splen 
of^  the  banker's  chateau  and  hospitality,  and  the 
meanness  of  the  counting-room  in  which  he  had 
seen  him,  —  "  Young  man,  you  are  too  young  to 
understand  how  masses  are  formed,  —  the  true  and 
only  power,  —  •  whether  composed  of  money,  water, 
or  men,  it  is  all  alike,  —  a  mass  is  an  immense 
centre  of  motion,  but  it  must  be  begun,  it  must  be 
kept  up  :  "  —  and  he  might  have  added,  that  the 
way  in  which  it  must  be  begun  and  kept  up,  is, 
by  obedience  to  the  law  of  particles. 

Success  consists  in  close  appliance  to  the  laws  of 
the  world,  and,  since  those  laws  are  intellectual  and 
moral,  an  intellectual  and  moral  obedience.  Polit 
ical  Economy  is  as  good  a  book  wherein  to  read 
the  life,  of  man,  and  the  ascendency  of  laws  over  all 
private  and  hostile  influences,  as  any  Bible  which 
has  come  down  to  us. 

.  Money  is  representative,  and  follows  the  nature 
and  fortunes  of  the  owner.  The  coin  is  a  delicate 
meter  of  civil,  social,  and  moral  changes.  The 
farmer  is  covetous  of  his  dollar,  and  with  reason. 


88  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

It  is  no  waif  to  him.  He  knows  how  many  strokes 
of  labor  it  represents.  His  bones  ache  with  the 
day's  work  that  earned  it.  He  knows  how  much 
land  it  represents ;  —  how  much  rain,  frost,  and 
sunshine.  He  knows  that,  in  the  dollar,  he  gives 
you  so  much  discretion  and  patience,  so  much  hoe 
ing,  and  threshing.  Try  to  lift  his  dollar ;  you 
must  lift  all  that  weight.  In  the  city,  where  money 
follows  the  skit  of  a  pen,  or  a  lucky  rise  in  ex 
change,  it  comes  to  be  looked  on  as  light.  I  wish 
the  farmer  held  it  dearer,  and  would  spend  it  only 
for  real  bread';  force  for  force. 

The  farmer's  dollar  is  heavy,  and  the  clerk's  is 
light  and  nimble ;  leaps  out  of  his  pocket ;  jumps 
on  to  cards  and  faro-tables  :  but  still  more  curious 
is  its  susceptibility  to  metaphysical  changes.  It  is 
the  finest  barometer  of  social  storms,  and  announces 
revolutions. 

Every  step  of  civil  advancement  makes  every 
man's  dollar  worth  more.  In  California,  the  coun 
try  where  it  grew,  —  what  would  it  buy  ?  A  few 
years  since,  it  would  buy  a  shanty,  dysentery,  hun 
ger,  bad  company,  and  crime.  There  are  wide 
countries,  like  Siberia,  where  it  would  buy  little 
else  to-day,  than  some  petty  mitigation  of  suffering. 
In  Rome,  it  will  buy  beauty  and  magnificence. 
Forty  years  ago,  a  dollar  would  not  buy  much  in 
Boston.  Now  it  will  buy  a  great  deal  more  in  our 
old  town,  thanks  to  railroads,  telegraphs,  steamers, 


WEALTH.  89 

and  the  contemporaneous  growth  of  New  York,  and 
the  whole  country.  Yet  there  are  many  goods  ap 
pertaining  to  a  capital  city,  which  are  not  yet  pur 
chasable  here,  no,  not  with  a  mountain  of  dollars. 
A  dollar  in  Florida  is  not  worth  a  dollar  in  Massa 
chusetts.  A  dollar  is  not  value,  but  representative 
of  value,  and,  at  last,  of  moral  values.  A  dollar  is 
rated  for  the  corn  it  will  buy,  or  to  speak  strictly, 
not  for  the  corn  or  house-room,  but  for  Athenian 
corn,  and  Roman  house-room, — for  the  wit,  probity, 
and  power,  which  we  eat  bread  and  dwell  in  houses 
to  share  and  exert.  Wealth  is  mental ;  wealth  is 
moral.  The  value  of  a  dollar  is,  to  buy  just  things  : 
a^dellar  ~goes  on  increasing  in  value  ^ith  all  the 
genius,  and  all  the  virtue  of  the  world.  A  dollar 
in  a  university,  is  worth  more  than  a  dollar  in  a 
jail ;  in  a  temperate,  schooled,  law-abiding  com 
munity,  than  in  some  sink  of  crime,  where  dice, 
knives,  and  arsenic,  are  in  constant  play. 

The  "  Bank-Note  Detector  "  is  a  useful  publica 
tion.  But  the  current  dollar,  silver  or  paper,  is 
itself  the  detector  of  the  right  and  wrong  where  it 
circulates.  Is  it  not  instantly  enhanced  by  the  in 
crease  of  equity  ?  If  a  trader  refuses  to  sell  his 
vote,  or  adheres  to  some  odious  right,  he  makes  so 
much  more  equity  in  Massachusetts;  and  every  acre 
in  the  State  is  more  worth,  in  the  hour  of  his  action. 
If  you  take  out  of  State-street  the  ten  honestest 
merchants,  and  put  in  ten  roguish  persons,  con- 


90  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

trolling  the  same  amount  of  capital,  —  the  rates  of 
insurance  will  indicate  it ;  the  soundness  of  banks 
will  show  it :  the  highways  will  be  less  secure : 
the  schools  will  feel  it ;  the  -children  will-  .bring 
home  their  little  dose  of : the  poison :  the  judge  will 
sit  less  firmly  on  the  .bench,  and  his  decisions  be 
less  upright ;  he  has  lost  so  much  support  and 
constraint,  —  which  all  need  ;  and  the  pulpit  will 
betray  it,  in  a  laxer  rule  of  life!  •  An  apple-tree, 
if  you  take  out  every  day  for  a  number  of  days,  a 
load  of  loam,  and  put  in  a  load  of  sand  about  its 
roots,  —  will  find  it  out.  An  apple-tree  is  a  stupid 
kind  of  creature,  but  if  this  treatment  be  pursued 
for  a  short  time,  I  think  it  would  begin  to  mistrust 
something.  And  if  you  should  take  out  of  the 
powerful  class  engaged  in  trade  a  hundred  good 
men,  and  put  in  a  hundred  bad,  or,  what  is  just  the 
same  thing,  introduce  a  demoralizing  institution, 
would  not  the  dollar,  which  is  not  much  stupider 
than  an  apple-tree,  presently  find  it  out  ?  The 
value  of  a  dollar  is  social,  as  it  is  created  by  society. 
Every  man  who  removes  into  this  city,  with  any 
purchasable  talent  or  skill  in  him,  gives  to  every 
man's  labor  in  the  city,  a  new  worth.  If  a  talent  is 
anywhere  born  into  the  world,  the  community  of 
nations  is  enriched ;  and,  much  more,  with  a  new 
degree  of  probity.  The  expense  of  crime,  one 
of  the  principal  charges  of  every  nation,  is  so  far 
stopped.  In  Europe,  crime  is  observed  to  increase 


WEALTH.  91 

or  abate  with  the  price  of  bread.  If  the  Roths 
childs  at  Paris  do  not  accept  bills,  the  people  at 
Manchester,  at  Paisley,  at  ' Birmingham,  are  forced 
into  the  highway,  and  landlords  are  shot  down  in 
Ireland.  The  police  records  attest  it.  The  vibra 
tions  are  presently  felt  in  New  York,  New  Orleans, 
and  Chicago.  Not  much  otherwise,  the  econom 
ical  power  touches  the  masses  through  the  political 
lords.  Rothschild  refuses  the  Russian  loan,  and 
there  is  peace,  and  the  harvests  are  saved.  He 
takes  it,  and  there  is  war,  and  an  agitation  through 
a  large  portion  of  mankind,  with  every  hideous 
result,  ending  in  revolution,  and  a  new  order. 

Wealth  brings  with  it  its  own  checks  and  bal 
ances.  The  basis  of  political  economy  is  non 
interference.  The  only  safe  rule  is  found  in  the 
self-adjusting  meter  of  demand  and  supply.  Do 
not  legislate.  Meddle,  and  you  snap  the  sinews 
with  your  sumptuary  laws.  Give  no  bounties : 
make  equal  laws  :  secure  life  and  property,  and 
you  need  not  give  alms.  Open  the  doors  of  oppor 
tunity  to  talent  and  virtue,  and  they  will  do  them 
selves  justice,  and  property  will  not  be  in  bad  hands. 
In  a  free  and  just  commonwealth,  property  rushes 
from  the  idle  and  imbecile,  to  the  industrious,  brave, 
and  persevering. 

The  laws  of  nature  play  through  trade,  as  a  toy- 
battery  exhibits  the  effects  of  electricity.  The  level 
of  the  sea  is  not  more  surely  kept,  than  is  the 


92  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

equilibrium  of  value  in  society,  by  the  demand  andj 
supply  :  and  artifice  or  legislation  punishes  itself,  j 
by  reactions,  gluts,  and  bankruptcies.  The  sublime 
laws  play  indifferently  through  atoms  and  galaxies. 
Whoever  knows  what  happens  in  the  getting  and 
spending  of  a  loaf  of  bread  and  a  pint  of  beer ;  that 
no  wishing  will  change  the  rigorous  limits  of  pints 
and  penny  loaves  ;  that,  for  all  that  is  consumed,  so 
much  less  remains  in  the  basket  and  pot ;  but  what 
is  gone  out  of  these  is  not  wasted,  but  well  spent, 
if  it  nourish  his  body,  and  enable  him  to  finish  his 
task ;  —  knows  all  of  political  economy  that  the 
budgets  of  empires  can  teach  him.  The  interest  of 
petty  economy  is  this  symbolization  of  the  greai 
economy  ;  the  way  in  which  a  house,  and  a  private 
man's  methods,  tally  with  the  solar  system,  and  the 
laws  of  give  and  take,  throughout  nature ;  and 
however  wary  we  are  of  the  falsehoods  and  petty 
tricks  which  we  suicidally  play  off  on  each  other, 
every  man  has  a  certain  satisfaction,  whenever  his 
dealing  touches  on  the  inevitable  facts  ;  when  he 
sees  that  things  themselves  dictate  the  price,  as  they 
always  tend  to  do,  and,  in  large  manufactures,  are 
seen  to  do.  Your  paper  is  not  fine  or  coarse 
enough,  —  is  too  heavy,  or  too  thin.  The  manu 
facturer  says,  he  will  furnish  you  with  just  thai 
thickness  or  thinness  you  want ;  the  pattern  is  quite 
indifferent  to  him  ;  here  is  his  schedule  ;  —  any 
variety  of  paper,  as  cheaper  or  dearer,  with  the 


WEALTH. 

prices  annexed.  A  pound  of  paper  costs  so  much, 
and  you  may  have  it  made  up  in  any  pattern  you 
fancy. 

There  is  in  all  our  dealings  a  self-regulation  that 
supersedes  chaffering.  You  will  rent  a  house,  but 
must  have  it  cheap.  The  owner  can  reduce  the 
rent,  but  so  he  incapacitates  himself  from  making 
proper  repairs,  and  the  tenant  gets  not  the  house  he 
would  have,  but  a  worse  one  ;  besides,  that  a  rela 
tion  a  little  injurious  is  established  between  land 
lord  and  tenant.  You  dismiss  your  laborer,  saying, 

Patrick,  I  shall  send  for  you  as  soon  as  I  cannot 
do  without  you."  Patrick  goes  off  contented,  for 
he  knows  that  the  weeds  will  grow  with  the  pota 
toes,  the  vines  must  be  planted,  next  week,  and, 
however  unwilling  you  may  be,  the  cantelopes, 
crook-necks,  and  cucumbers  will  send  for  him.  Who 
but  must  wish  that  all  labor  and  value  should  stand 
on  the  same  simple  and  surly  market  ?  If  it  is  the 
best  of  its  kind,  it  will.  We  must  have  joiner, 
locksmith,  planter,  priest,  poet,  doctor,  cook,  weav 
er,  ostler ;  each  in  turn,  through  the  year. 

If  a  St.  Michael's  pear  sells  for  a  shilling,  it  costs 
a  shilling  to  raise  it.  If,  in  Boston,  the  best  securi 
ties  offer  twelve  per  cent,  for  money,  they  have  just 
six  per  cent,  of  insecurity.  You  may  not  see  that  the 
fine  pear  costs  you  a  shilling,  but  it  costs  the  commu 
nity  so  much.  The  shilling  represents  the  number 
of  enemies  the  pear  has,  and  the  amount  of  risk  in 


94  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

ripening  it.  The  price  of  coal  shows  the  narrow 
ness  of  the  coal-field,  and  a  compulsory  confinement 
of  the  miners  to  a  certain  district.  All  salaries 
are  reckoned  on  contingent,  as  well  as  on  actual 
services.  "  If  the  wind  were  always  southwest  by 
west,"  said  the  skipper,  "  women  might  take  ships 
to  sea."  One  might  say,  that  all  things  are  of  one 
price  ;  that  nothing  is  cheap  or  dear ;  and  that  the 
apparent  disparities  that  strike  us,  are  only  a  shop 
man's  trick  of  concealing  the  damage  in  your  bar 
gain.  A  youth  coming  into  the  city  from  his 
native  New  Hampshire  farm,  with  its  hard  fare  still 
fresh  in  his  remembrance,  boards  at  a  first-class 
hotel,  and  believes  he  must  somehow  have  out 
witted  Dr.  Franklin  and  Malthus,  for  luxuries  are 
cheap.  But  he  pays  for  the  one  convenience  of  a 
better  dinner,  by  the  loss  of  some  of  the  richest 
social  and  educational  advantages.  He  has  lost 
what  guards  !  what  incentives  !  He  will  perhaps 
find  by  and  by,  that  he  left  the  Muses  at  the  door 
of  the  hotel,  and  found  the  Furies  inside.  Money 
often  costs  too  much,  and  power  and  pleasure  are 
not  cheap.  The  ancient  poet  said,  "  the  gods  sell 
all  things  at  a  fair  price." 

There  is  an  example  of  the  compensations  in 
the  commercial  history  of  this  country.  When  the 
European  wars  threw  the  carrying-trade  of  the 
world,  from  1800  to  1812,  into  American  bottoms, 
a  seizure  was  now  and  then  made  of  an  American 


WEALTH.  95 

ship.  Of  course,  the  loss  was  serious  to  the  owner, 
but  the  country  was  indemnified;  for  we  charged 
threepence  a  pound  for  carrying  cotton,  sixpence 
for  tobacco,  and  so  on ;  which  paid  for  the  risk  and 
loss,  and  brought  into  the  country  an  immense  pros 
perity,  early  marriages,  private  wealth,  the  building 
of  cities,  and  of  states :  and,  after  the  war  was  over, 
we  received  compensation  over  and  above,  by  treaty, 
for  all  the  seizures.  Well,  the  Americans  grew  rich 
and  great.  But  the  pay-day  comes  round.  Brit 
ain,  France,  and  Germany,  which  our  extraordinary 
profits  had  impoverished,  send  out,  attracted  by  the 
fame  of  our  advantages,  first  their  thousands,  then 
their  millions,  of  poor  people,  to  share  the  crop. 
At  first,  we  employ  them,  and  increase  our  pros 
perity  :  but,  in  the  artificial  system  of  society  and 
of  protected  labor,  which  we  also  have  adopted  and 
enlarged,  there  come  presently  checks  and  stop 
pages.  Then  we  refuse  to  employ  these  poor  men. 
But  they  will  not  so  be  answered.  They  go  into 
the  poor  rates,  and,  though  we  refuse  wages,  we 
must  now  pay  the  same  amount  in  th.e  form  of 
taxes.  Again,  it  turns  out  that  the  largest  propor 
tion  of  crimes  are  committed  by  foreigners.  The 
cost  of  the  crime,  and  the  expense  of  courts,  and 
of  prisons,  we  must  bear,  and  the  standing  army 
of  preventive  police  we  must  pay.  The  cost  of 
education  of  the  posterity  of  this  great  colony,  1 
will  not  compute.  But  the  gross  amount  of  these 


96  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

costs  will  begin  to  pay  back  what  we  thought  was 
a  net  gain  from  our  transatlantic  customers  of  1800. 
It  is  vain  to  refuse  this  payment.  We  cannot  get 
rid  of  these  people,  and  we  cannot  get  rid  of  their 
will  to  be  supported.  That  has  become  an  inevita 
ble  element  of  our  politics  ;  and,  for  their  votes, 
each  of  the  dominant  parties  courts  and  assists  them 
to  get  it  executed.  Moreover,  we  have  to  pay, 
not  what  would  have  contented  them  at  home, 
but  what  they  have  learned  to  think  necessary 
here  ;  so  that  opinion,  fancy,  and  all  manner  of 
moral  considerations  complicate  the  problem. 

There  are  a  few  measures  of  economy  which  will 
bear  to  be  named  without  disgust ;  for  the  subject 
is  tender,  and  we  may  easily  have  too  much  of  it ; 
and  therein  resembles  the  hideous  animalcules  of 
which  our  bodies  are  built  up,  —  which,  offensive  in 
the  particular,  yet  compose  valuable  and  effective 
masses.  Our  nature  and  genius  force  us  to  respect 
ends,  whilst  we  use  means.  We  must  use  the 
means,  and  yet,  in  our  most  accurate  using,  some 
how  screen  and  cloak  them,  as  we  can  only  give 
them  any  beauty,  by  a  reflection  of  the  glory  of  the 
end.  That  is  the  good  head,  which  serves  the  end, 
and  commands  the  means.  The  rabble  are  cor 
rupted  by  their  means  :  the  means  are  too  strong  for 
them,  and  they  desert  their  end. 

1.  The  first  of  these  measures  is  that  each  man's 


WEALTH.  97 

expense  must  proceed  from  his  character.  As  long 
as  your  genius  buys,  the  investment  is  safe,  though 
you  spend  like  a  monarch.  Nature  arms  each  man 
with  some  faculty  which  enables  him  to  do  easily 
some  feat  impossible  to  any  other,  and  thus  makes 
him  necessary  to  society.  This  native  determina 
tion  guides  his  labor  and  his  spending.  He  wants 
an  equipment  of  means  and  tools  proper  to  his  tal 
ent.  And  to  save  on  this  point,  were  to  neutralize 
the  special  strength  and  helpfulness  of  each  mind. 
Do  your  work,  respecting  the  excellence  of  the 
work,  and  not  its  acceptableness.  This  is  so  much 
economy,  that,  rightly  read,  it  is  the  sum  of  econ 
omy.  Profligacy  consists  not  in  spending  years  of 
time  or  chests  of  money,  —  but  in  spending  them 
off  the  line  of  your  career.  The  crime  which  bank 
rupts  men  and  states,  is,  job-work ;  —  declining  from 
1  your  main  design,  to  serve  a  turn  here  or  there. 
Nothing  is  beneath  you,  if  it  is  in  the  direction  of 
your  life  ^othing  is  great  or  desirable,  if  it  is  off 
from  that.  I  think  we  are  entitled  here  to  draw  a 
straight  line,  and  say,  that  society  can  never  pros 
per,  but  must  always  be  bankrupt,  until  every  man 
does  that  which  he  was  created  to  do. 

Spend  fjr  your  expense,  and  retrench  the  expense 
which  is  not  yours.  Allston,  the  painter,  was  wont 
to  say,  that  he,  built  a  plain  house,  and  filled  it  with 
plain  furniture,  because  he  would  hold  out  no  bribe 
to  any  to  visit  him,  who  had  not  similar  tastes  to 


5 


98  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

his  own.  We  are  sympathetic,  and,  like  children, 
want  everything  we  see.  But  it  is  a  large  stride  to 
independence,  —  when  a  man,  in  the  discovery  of 
his  proper  talent,  has  sunk  the  necessity  for  false 
expenses.  As  the  betrothed  maiden,  by  one  secure 
affection,  is  relieved  from  a  system  of  slaveries,— 
the  daily  inculcated  necessity  of  pleasing  all,  —  so 
the  man  who  has  found  what  he  can  do,  can  spend 
on  that,  and  leave  all  other  spending.  Montaigne 
said,  "  When  he  was  a  younger  brother,  he  went 
brave  in  dress  and  equipage,  but  afterward  his. 
chateau  and  farms  might  answer  for  him."  Let 
a  man  who  belongs  to  the  class  of  nobles,  those, 
namely,  who  have  found  out  that  they  can  do 
something,  relieve  himself  of  all  vague  squandering 
on  objects  not  his.  Let  the  realist  not  mind  ap 
pearances.  Let  him  delegate  to  others  the  costly 
courtesies  and  decorations  of  social  life.  The  vir 
tues  are  economists,  but  some  of  the  vices  are  also. 
Thus,  next  to  humility,  I  have  noticed  that^mde 
is  a  pretty  good<1Kusband.  A  good  pride  is,  asl 
reckon  it,  worth  from  five  hundred  to  fifteen  hun 
dred  a  year.  Pride  is  handsome,  economical  : 
pride  eradicates  so  many  vices,  letting  none  sub 
sist  but  itself,  that  it  seems  as  if  it  were  a  great 
gain  to  exchange  vanity  for  pride.  Pride  can  go 
without  domestics,  without  fine  clothes,  can  live  in 
a  house  with  two  rooms,  can  eat  potato,  purslain, 
beans,  lyed  corn,  can  work  on  the  soil,  can  travel 


WEALTH.  99 

afoot,  can  talk  with  poor  men,  or  sit  silent  well- 
contented  in  fine  saloons.  But  vanity  costs  money, 
labor,  horses,  men,  women,  health,  and  peace,  and 
is  still  nothing  at  last,  a  long  way  leading  nowhere. 
—  Only  one  drawback  ;  proud  people  are  intolera 
bly  selfish,  and  the  vain  are  gentle  and  giving. 

Art  is  a  jealous  mistress,  and,  if  a  man  have  a 
genius  for  painting,  poetry,  music,  architecture,  or 
philosophy,  he  makes  a  bad  husband,  and  an  ill  pro 
vider,  and  should  be  wise  in  season,  and  not  fetter 
himself  with  duties  which  will  embitter  his  days, 
and  spoil  him  for  his  proper  work.  We  had  in  this 
region,  twenty  years  ago,  among  our  educated  men, 
a  sort  of  Arcadian  fanaticism,  a  passionate  desire  to 
go  upon  the  land,  and  unite  farming  to  intellec 
tual  pursuits.  Many  effected  their  purpose,  and 
made  the  experiment,  and  some  became  downright 
ploughmen ;  but  all  were  cured  of  their  faith  that 
scholarship  and  practical  farming,  (I  mean,  with 
one's  own, hands,)  could  be  united. 

With  bro\v  bent,  with  firm  intent,  the  pale 
scholar  leaves  his  desk  to  draw  a  freer  breath,  and 
get  a  juster  statement  of  his  thought,  in  the  garden- 
walk.  He  stoops  to  pull  up  a  purslain,  or  a  dock, 
that  is  choking  the  young  corn,  and  finds  there 
are  two  :  close  behind  the  last,  is  a  third ;  he 
reaches  out  his  hand  to  a  fourth  ;  behind  that,  are 
four  thousand  and  one.  He  is  heated  and  untuned, 
and,  by  and  by,  wakes  up  from  his  idiot  dream  of 


100  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

chickweed  and  red-root,  to  remember  his  morning 
thought,  and  to  find,  that,  with  his  adamantine  pur 
poses,  he  has  been  duped  by  a  dandelion.  A  garden 
is  like  those  pernicious  machineries  we  read  of,  every 
month,  in  the  newspapers,  which  catch  a  man's  coat- 
skirt  or  his  hand,  and  draw  in  his  arm,  his  leg,  and 
his  whole  body  to  irresistible  destruction.  In  an 
evil  hour  he  pulled  down  his  wall,  and  added  a 
field  to  his  homestead.  No  land  is  bad,  but  land  is 
worse.  If  a  man  own  land,  the  land  owns  him. 
Now  let  him  leave  home,  if  he  dare.  Every  tree 
and  graft,  every  hill  of  melons,  row  of  corn,  or 
quickset  hedge,  all  he  has  done,  and  all  he  means 
to  do,  stand  in  his  way,  like  duns,  when  he  would 
go  out  of  his  gate.  The  devotion  to  these  vines 
and  trees  he  finds  poisonous.  Long  free  walks,  a 
circuit  of  miles,  free  his  brain,  and  serve  his  body. 
Long  marches  are  no  hardship  to  him.  He  believes 
he  composes  easily  on  the  hills.  But  this  pottering 
in  a  few  square  yards  of  garden  is  dispiriting  and 
drivelling.  The  smell  of  the  plants'  has  drugged 
him,  and  robbed  him  of  energy.  He  finds  a  cata 
lepsy  in  his  bones.  He  grows  peevish  and  poor- 
spirited.  The  genius  of  reading  and  of  gardening 
are  antagonistic,  like  resinous  and  vitreous  elec 
tricity.  One  is  concentrative  in  sparks  and  shocks  : 
the  other  is  diffuse  strength ;  so  that  each  disquali 
fies  its  workman  for  the  other's  duties. 

An  engraver  whose  hands  must  be  of  an  exquisite 


WEALTH.  101 

delicacy  of  stroke,  should  not  lay  stone  walls.  Sir 
David  Brewster  gives  exact  instructions  for  micro 
scopic  observation  :  —  "  Lie  down  on  your  back,  and 
hold  the  single  lens  and  object  over  your  eye,"  &c. 
&c.  How  much  more  the  seeker  of  abstract  truth, 
who  needs  periods  of  isolation,  and  rapt  concentra 
tion,  and  almost  a  going  out  of  the  body  to  think  ! 

2.  Spend  after  your  genius,  and  by  system.  Na 
ture  goes  by  rule,  not  by  sallies  and  saltations. 
There  must  be  system  in  the  economies.  Saving 
and  unexpensiveness  will  not  keep  the  most  pa 
thetic  family  from  ruin,  nor  will  bigger  incomes 
make  free  spending  safe.  The  secret  o£jnT£cess  lies 
never  in  the  amount  of  money,  but  in_the  relation 
of  income_toL.nutgQ  ^as^  if,  after  expense  has  been 
fixed  at  a  certain  point,  then  new  and  steady  rills 
of  income,  though  never  so  small,  being  added, 
wealth  begins.  But  in  ordinary,  as  means  increase, 
spending  increases  fas.ter,  so  that,  large  incomes,  in 
England  and  elsewhere,  are  found  not  to  help  mat 
ters  ;  —  the  eating  quality  of  debt  does  not  relax  its 
voracity.  When  the  cholera  is  in  the  potato,  what 
is  the  use  of  planting  larger  crops  ?  In  England, 
the  richest  country  in  the  universe,  I  was  assured 
by  shrewd  observers,  that  great  lords  and  ladies 
had  no  more  guineas  to  give  away  than  other  peo 
ple  ;  that  liberality  with  money  is  as  rare,  and  as 
immediately  famous  a  virtue  as  it  is  here.  Want  is 
a  growing  giant  whom  the  coat  of  Have  was  never 


102  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

large  enough  to  cover.  I  remember  in  Warwick- < 
shire,  to  have  been  shown  a  fair  manor,  still  in  the 
same  name  as. in  Sliakspeare's  time.  The  rent-roll, 
I  was  told,  is  some  fourteen  thousand  pounds  a  year : 
but,  when  the  second  son  of  the  late  proprietor  was 
born,  the  father  was  perplexed  how  to  provide  for 
him.  The  eldest  son  must  inherit  the  manor  ;  what 
to  do  with  this  supernumerary  ?  He  was  advised  to 
breed  him  for  the  Church,  and  to  settle  him  in  the 
rectorship,  which  was  in  the  gift  of  the  family  ; 
which  was  done.  It  is  a  general  rule  in  that  coun 
try,  that  bigger  incomes  do  not  help  anybody.  It 
is  commonly  observed,  that  a  sudden  wealth,  like  a 
prize  drawn  in  a  lottery,  or  a  large  bequest  to  a 
poor  family,  does  not  permanently  enrich.  They 
have  served  no  apprenticeship  to  wealth,  and,  with 
the  rapid  wealth,  come  rapid  claims :  which  they  do 
not  know  how  to  deny,  and  the  treasure  is  quickly 
dissipated. 

A  system  must  be  in  every  economy,  or  the  best 
single  expedients  ure  of  no  avail.  A  farm  is  a 
good  thing,  when  it  begins  and  ends  with  itself, 
and  does  not  need  a  salary,  or  a  shop,  to  eke  it  out. 
Thus,  the  cattle  are  a  main  link  in  the  chain-ring. 
If  the  non-conformist  or  aesthetic  farmer  leaves  out 
the  cattle,  and  does  not  also  leave  out  the  want 
which  the  cattle  must  supply,  he  must  fill  the  gap 
by  begging  or  stealing.  When  men  now  alive  were 
born,  the  farm  yielded  everything  that  was  con- 


WEALTH.  103 


sumed  on  it.  The  farm  yielded  no  money,  and  the 
farmer  got  on  without.  If  he  fell  sick,  his  neigh 
bors  came  in  to  his  aid :  each  gave  a  day's  work ; 
'or  a  half  day;  or  lent  his  yoke  of  oxen, 'or  his 
horse,  and  kept  his  work  even  :  hoed  his  potatoes, 
mowed  his  hay,  reaped  his  rye  ;  well  knowing  that 
no  man  could  afford  to  hire  labor,  without  selling 
his  land.  In  autumn,  a  farmer  could  sell  an  ox  or 
a  hog,  and  get  a  little  money  to  pay  taxes  withal. 
Now,  the  farmer  buys  almost  all  he  consumes,— 
tin-ware,  cloth,  sugar,  tea,  coffee,  fish,  coal,  railroad- 
tickets,  and  newspapers. 

A  master  in  each  art  is  required,  because  the 
practice  is  never  with  still  or  dead  subjects,  but 
they  change  in  your  hands.  You  think  farm-build 
ings  and  broad  acres  a  solid  property :  but  its  value 
is  flowing  like  water.  It  requires  as  much  watch 
ing  as  if  you  were  decanting  wine  from  a  cask. 
The  farmer  knows  what  to  do  with  it,  stops  every 
leak,  turns  all  the  streamlets  to  one  reservoir,  and 
decants  wine  :  but  a  blunderhead  comes  out  of 
Cornhill,  tries  his  hand,  and  it  all  leaks  away.  So 
is  it  with  granite  streets,  or  timber  townships,  as 
with  fruit  or  flowers.  Nor  is  any  investment  so 
psrmanent,  that  it  can  be  allowed  to  remain  with 
out  incessant  watching,  as  the  history  of  each 
attempt  to  lock  up  an  inheritance  through  two 
generations  for  an  unborn  inheritor  may  show. 
When  Mr.  Cockayne  takes  a  cottage  in  the  coun- 


104  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

try,  and  will  keep  his  cow,  he  thinks  a  cow  is  a 
creature  that  is  fed  on  hay,  and  gives  a  pail  of  milk 
twice  a  day.  But  the  cow  that  he  buys  gives  milk 
for  three  months  ;  then  her  bag  dries  up.  What  to 
do  with  a  dry  cow  ?  who  will  buy  her  ?  Perhaps 
he  bought  also  a  yoke  of  oxen  to  do  his  work  ;  but 
they  get  blown  and  lame.  What  to  do  with  blown 
and  lame  oxen  ?  The  farmer  fats  his,  after  the 
spring-work  is  done,  and  kills  them  in  the  fall. 
But  how  can  Cockayne,  who  has  no  pastures,  and 
leaves  his  cottage  daily  in  the  cars,  at  business 
hours,  be  pothered  with  fatting  and  killing  oxen  ? 
He  plants  trees ;  but  there  must  be  crops,  to  keep 
the  trees  in  ploughed  land.  What  shall  be  the 
crops  ?  He  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  trees,  but 
will  have  grass.  After  a  year  or  two,  the  grass 
must  be  turned  up  and  ploughed  :  now  what  crops  ? 
Credulous  Cockayne  ! 

3.  Help  comes  in  the  custom  of  the  country, 
and  the  rule  of  Lnpera  parendo.  The  rule  is  not  to 
dictate,  nor  to  insist  on  carrying  out  each  of  your 
schemes  by  ignorant  wilfulness,  but  to  learn  prac 
tically  the  secret  spoken  from  all  nature,  that  things 
themselves  refuse  to  be  mismanaged,  and  will  show 
to  the  watchful  their  own  law.  Nobody  need  stir 
hand  or  foot.  The  custom  of  the  country  will  do 
it  all.  I  know  not  how  to  build  or  to  plant ; 
neither  how  to  buy  wood,  nor  what  to  do  with 
the  house-lot,  the  field,  or  the  wood-lot,  when 


WEALTH.  105 

bought.  Never  fear :  it  is  all  settled  how  it  shall 
be,  long  beforehand,  in  the  custom  of  the  country, 
whether  to  sand,  or  whether  to  clay  it,  when  to 
plough,  and  how  to  dress,  whether  to  grass,  or  to 
corn ;  and  you  cannot  help  or  hinder  it.  Nature 
has  her  own  best  mode  of  doing  each  thing,  and 
she  has  somewhere  told  it  plainly,  if  we  will  keep 
our  eyes  and  ears  open.  If  not,  she  will  not  be 
slow  in  undeceiving  us,  when  we  prefer  our  own 
way  to  hers.  How  often  we  must  remember  the 
art  of  the  surgeon,  which,  in  replacing  the  broken 
bone,  contents  itself  with  releasing  the  parts  from 
false  position  ;  they  fly  into  place  by  the  action  of 
the  muscles.  On  this  art  of  nature  all  our  arts 
rely. 

Of  the  two  eminent  engineers  in  the  recent  con 
struction  of  railways  in  England,  Mr.  Brunei  went 
straight  from  terminus  to  terminus,  through  moun 
tains,  over  streams,  crossing  highways,  cutting  ducal 
estates  in  two,  and  shooting  through  this  man's  cel 
lar,  and  that  man's  attic  window,  and  so  arriving  at 
his  end,  at  great  pleasure  to, geometers,  but  with 
cost  to  his  company.  Mr.  Stephenson,  on  the 
contrary,  believing  that  the  river  knows  the  way, 
followed  his  valley,  as  implicitly  as  our  Western 
Railroad  follows  the  Westfield  River,  and  turned 
out  to  be  the  safest  and  cheapest  engineer.  We  say 
the  cows  laid  out  -Boston.  Well,  there  are  worse 
surveyors.  Every  pedestrian  in  our  pastures  has 

5* 


106  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

frequent  occasion  to  thank  the  cows  for  cutting  the 
best  path  through  the  thicket,  and  over  the  hills  : 
and  travellers  and  Indians  know  the  value  of  a 
buffalo-trail,  which  is  sure  to  be  the  easiest  possible 
pass  through  the  ridge. 

When  a  citizen,  fresh  from  Dock-square,  or  Milk- 
street,  comes  out  and  buys  land  in  the  country,  his 
first  thought  is  to  a  fine  outlook  from  his  windows : 
his  library  must  command  a  western  view :  a  sun 
set  every  day,  bathing  the  shoulder  of  Blue  Hills, 
Wachusett,  and  the  peaks  of  Monadnoc  and  Unca- 
noonuc.  What,  thirty  acres,  and  all  this  magnifi 
cence  for  fifteen  hundred  dollars  !  It  would  be 
cheap  at  fifty  thousand.  He  proceeds  at  once,  his 
eyes  dim  with  tears  of  joy,  to  fix  the  spot  for  his 
corner-stone.  But  the  man  who  is  to  level  the 
ground,  thinks  it  will  take  many  hundred  loads  of 
gravel  to  fill  the  hollow  to  the  road.  The  stone 
mason  who  should  build  the  well  thinks  he  shall 
have  to  dig  forty  feet :  the  baker  doubts  he  shall 
never  like  to  drive  up  to  the  door :  the  practical 
neighbor  cavils  at  the  position  of  the  barn  ;  and 
the  citizen  comes  to  know  that  his  predecessor  the 
farmer  built  the  house  in  the  right  spot  for  the 
sun  and  wind,  the  spring,  and  water-drainage,  and 
the  convenience  to  the  pasture,  the  garden,  the 
field,  and  the  road.  So  Dock-square  yields  the 
point,  and  things  have  their  own  way.  Use  has 
made  the  farmer  wise,  and  the  foolish  citizen  learns 


WEALTH.  107 

to  take  his  counsel.  From  step  to  step  he  comes  at 
last  to  surrender  at  discretion.  The  farmer  affects 
to  take  his  orders ;  but  the  citizen  says,  You  may 
ask  me  as  often  as  you  will,  and  in  what  ingenious 
forms,  for  an  opinion  concerning  the  mode  of  build 
ing  my  wall,  or  sinking  my  well,  or  laying  out  my 
acre,  but  the  ball  will  rebound  to  you.  These  are 
matters  on  which  I  neither  know,  nor  need  to  know 
anything.  These  are  questions  which  you  and  not 
I  shall  answer. 

Not  less,  within  doors,  a  system  settles  itself  para 
mount  and  tyrannical  over  master  and  mistress, 
servant  and  child,  cousin  and  acquaintance.  'Tis 
in  vain  that  genius  or  virtue  or  energy  of  character 
strive  and  cry  against  it.  This  is  fate.  And  'tis 
very  well  that  the  poor  husband  reads  in  a  book 
of  a  new  way  of  living,  and  resolves  to  adopt  it  at 
home :  let  him  go  home  and  try  it,  if  he  dare. 

4.  Another  point  of  economy  is  to  look  for 
seed  of  the  same  kind  as  you  sow  :  and  not  to  hope 
to  buy  one  kind  with  another  kind.  Friendship 
buys  friendship  ;  justice,  justice  ;  military  merit, 
military  success.  Good  husbandry  finds  wife,  chil 
dren,  and  household.  The  good  merchant  large 
gains,  ships,  stocks,  and  money.  The  good  poet 
fame,  and  literary  credit ;  but  not  either,  the  other. 
Yet  there  is  commonly  a  confusion  of  expectations 
on  these  points.  Hotspur  lives  for  the  moment ; 
Draises  himself  for  it ;  and  despises  Furlong,  that  he 


108  CONDUCT   OF    LIFE. 

does  not.  Hotspur,  of  course,  is  poor ;  and  Furlong 
a  good  provider.  The  odd  circumstance  is,  that 
Hotspur  thinks  it  a  superiority  in  himself,  this 
improvidence,  which  ought  to  be  rewarded  with 
Furlono-'s  lands. 

o 

I  have  not  at  all  completed  my  design.  But  we 
must  not  leave  the  topic,  without  casting  one  glance 
into  the  interior  recesses.  It  is  a  doctrine  of  phi 
losophy,  that  man  is  a  being  of  degrees  ;  that  there 
is  nothing  in  the  world,  which  is  not  repeated  in 
his  body ;  his  body  being  a  sort  of  miniature  or 
summary  of  the  world  :  then  that  there  is  nothing 
in  his  body,  which  is  not  repeated  as  in  a  celestial 
sphere  in  his  mind  :  then,  there  is  nothing  in  his 
brain,  which  is  not  repeated  in  a  higher  sphere,  in 
his  moral  system. 

5.  Now  these  things  are  so  in  Nature.  All 
things  ascend,  and  the  royal  rule  of  economy  is, 
that  it  should  ascend  also,  or,  whatever  we  do  must 
always  have  a  higher  aim.  Thus  it  is  a  maxim, 
that  money  is  another  kind  of  blood.  Pecunia  alter 
sanguis  :  or,  the  estate  of  a  man  is  only  a  larger 
kind  of  body,  and  admits  of  regimen  analogous  to 
his  bodily  circulations.  .  So  there  is  no  maxim  of 
the  merchant,  e.  g.,  "  Best  use  of  money  is  to  pay 
debts;"  "Every  business  by  itself;"  "Best  time 
is  present  time  ;  "  "  The  right  investment  is  in  tools 
of  your  trade ; "  or  the  like,  which  does  not  admit 
of  an  extended  sense.  The  counting-room  maxims 


WEALTH.  109 

liberally  expounded  are  laws  of  the  Universe.  The 
merchant's  economy  is  a  coarse  symbol  of  the  soul's 
economy.  It  is,  to  spend  for  power,  and  not  for 
pleasure.  It  is  to  invest  income ;  that  is  to  say,  to 
take  up  particulars  into  generals  ;  days  into  inte 
gral  eras,  —  literary,  emotive,  practical,  of  its  life, 
and  still  to  ascend  in  its  investment.  The  mer 
chant  has  but  one  rule,  absorb  and  invest:  he  is 
to  be  capitalist  :  the  scraps  and  filings  must  be 
gathered  back  into  the  crucible  ;  the  gas  and  smoke  , 
must  be  burned,  and  earnings  must  not  go  to  in 
crease  expense,  but  to  capital  again.  Well,  the 
man  must  be  capitalist.  Will  he  spend  his  income, 
or  will  he  invest  ?  His  body  and  every  organ  is 
under  the  same  law.  His  body  is  a  jar,  in  which 
the  liquor  of  life  is  stored.  Will  he  spend  for  pleas 
ure  ?  The  way  to  ruin  is  short  and  facile.  Will 
he  not  spend,  but  hoard  for  power  ?  It  passes 
through  the  sacred  fermentations,  by  that  law  of 
Nature  whereby  everything  climbs  to  higher  plat 
forms,  and  bodily  vigor  becomes  mental  and  moral 
vigor.  The  bread  he  eats  is  first  strength  and 
animal  spirits  :  it  becomes,  in  higher  laboratories, 
imagery  and  thought  ;  and  in  still  higher  results, 
courage  and  endurance.  This  is  the  right  com 
pound  interest ;  this  is  capital  doubled,  quadrupled, 
centupled;  man  raised  to  his  highest  power. 

The  true  thrift  is  always  to  spend  on  the  higher 
plane  ;   to  invest  and  invest,  with  keener  avarice, 


110  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

that  he  may  spend  in  spiritual  creation,  and  not  in 
augmenting  animal  existence.  Nor  is  the  man  en 
riched,  in  repeating  the  old  experiments  of  animal 
sensation,  nor  unless  through  new  powers  and  as 
cending  pleasures,  he  knows  himself  by  the  actual 
experience  of  higher  good,  to  be  already  on  the 
way  to  the  highest. 


IV. 
CULTUKE. 


CAN  rules  or  tutors  educate 

The  semigod  whom  we  await? 

He  must  be  musical, 

Tremulous,  impressional, 

Alive  to  gentle  influence 

Of  landscape  and  of  sky, 

And  tender  to  the  spirit-touch 

Of  man's  or  maiden's  eye: 

But,  to  his  native  centre  fast, 

Shall  into  Future  fuse  the  Past, 

And  the  world's  flowing  fates  in  his  own  mould  recast. 


CULTURE. 

THE  word  of  ambition  at  the  present  day  is  Cul 
ture.  Whilst  all  the  world  is  in  pursuit  of  power, 
and  of  wealth  as  a  means  of  power,  culture  corrects 
the  theory  of  success.  A  man  is  the  prisoner  of  his 
power.  ^L  topical  memory  makes  him  an  almanac ; 
a  talent  for  debate,  a  disputant ;  skill  to  get  money 
makes  him  a  miser,  that  is,  a  beggar.  Culture  re 
duces  these  inflammations  by  invoking  the  aid  of 
other  powers  against  the  dominant  talent,  and  by 
appealing  to  the  rank  of  powers.  It  watches  suc 
cess.  For  performance,  Nature  has  no  mercy,  and 
sacrifices  the  performer  to  get  it  done  ;  makes  a 
dropsy  or  a  tympany  of  him.  If  she  wants  a 
thumb,  she  makes  one  at  the  cost  of  arms  and  legs, 
and  any  excess  of  power  in  one  part  is  usually  paid 
for  at  once  by  some  defect  in  a  contiguous  part. 

Our  efficiency  depends  so  much  on  our  concen 
tration,  that  Nature  usually  in  the  instances  where 
a  marked  man  is  sent  into  the  world,  overloads  him 
with  bias,  sacrificing  his  symmetry  to  his  working 
power.  It  is  said,  no  man  can  write  but  one  book  ; 
and  if  a  man  have  a  defect,  it  is  apt  to  leave  its  im- 


114  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

pression  on  all  his  performances.  If  sne  creates  a 
policeman  like  Fouch^,  he  is  made  up  of  suspicions 
and  of  plots  to  circumvent  them.  "  The  air,"  said 
Fondie*,  "  is  full  of  poniards."  The  physician 
Sanctorius  spent  his  life  in  a  pair  of  scales,  weigh 
ing  his  food.  Lord  Coke  valued  Chaucer  highly, 
because  the  Canon  Yeman's  Tale  illustrates  the 
statute  Hen.  V.  Chap.  4,  against  alchemy.  I  saw 
a  man  who  believed  the  principal  mischiefs  in  the 
English  state  were  derived  from  the  devotion  to 
musical  concerts.  A  freemason,  not  long  since,  set 
out  to  explain  to  this  country,  that  the  principal 
cause  of  the  success  of  General  Washington,  was, 
the  aid  he  derived  from  the  freemasons. 

But  worse  than  the  harping  on  one  string,  Nature 
has  secured  individualism,  by  giving  the  private 
person  a  high  conceit  of  his  weight  in  the  system. 
The  pest  of  society  is  egotists.  There  are  dull  and 
bright,  sacred  and  profane,  coarse  and  fine  egotists. 
'Tis  a  disease  that,  like  influenza,  falls  on  all  consti 
tutions.  In  the  distemper  known  to  physicians  as 
chorea,  the  patient  sometimes  turns  round,  and  con 
tinues  to  spin  slowly  on  one  spot.  Is  egotism  a 
metaphysical  varioloid  of  this  malady?  The  man 
runs  round  a  ring  formed  by  his  own'  talent,  falls 
into  an  admiration  of  it,  and  loses  relation  to  the 
world.  It  is  a  tendency  in  all  minds.  One  of  its 
annoying  forms,  is  a  craving  for  sympathy.  The 
sufferers  parade  their  miseries,  tear  the  lint  from 


CULTURE.  115 

their  bruises,  reveal  their  indictable  crimes,  that  you 
may  pity  them.  They  like  sickness,  because  phys 
ical  pain  will  extort  some'  show  of  interest  from  the 
bystanders,  as  we  have  seen  children,  who,  finding 
themselves  of  no  account  when  grown  people  come 
in,  will  cough  till  they  choke,  to  draw  attention. 

This  distemper  is  the  scourge  of  talent,  —  of 
artists,  inventors,  and  philosophers.  Eminent  spir 
itualists  shall  have  an  incapacity  of  putting  their 
act  or  word  aloof  from  them,  and  seeing  it  bravely 
for  the  nothing  it  is.  Beware  of  the  man  who  says, 
"  I  am  on  the  eve  of  a  revelation."  It  is  speedily 
punished,  inasmuch  as  this  habit  invites  men  to 
humor  it,  and  by  treating  the  patient  tenderly,  to 
shut  him  up  in  a  narrower  selfism,  and  exclude  him 
from  the  great  world  of  God's  cheerful  fallible  men 
and  women.  Let  us  rather  be  insulted,  whilst  we 
are  insultable.  Religious  literature  has  eminent 
examples,  and  if  we  run  over  our  private  list  of 
poets,  critics,  philanthropists,  and  philosophers,  we 
shall  find  them  infected  with  this  dropsy  and  ele 
phantiasis,  which  we  ought  to  have  tapped. 

This  goitre  of  egotism  is  so  frequent  among  nota 
ble  persons,  that  we  must  infer  some  strong  neces 
sity  in  nature  which  it  subserves  ;  such  as  we  see  in 
the  sexual  attraction.  The  preservation  of  the  spe 
cies  was  a  point  of  such  necessity,  that  Nature  has 
secured  it  at  all  hazards  by  immensely  overloading 
the  passion,  at  the  risk  of  perpetual  crime  and  dis- 


116  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

order.  So  egotism  has  its  root  in  the  cardinal 
necessity  by  which  each  individual  persists  to  be 
what  he  is. 

This  individuality  is  not  only  not  inconsistent 
with  culture,  but  is  the  basis  of  it.  Every  valuable 
nature  is  there  in  its  own  right,  and  the  student  we 
speak  to  must  have  a  motherwit  invincible  by  his 
culture,  which  uses  all  books,  arts,  facilities,  and  ele 
gancies  of  intercourse,  but  is  never  subdued  and  lost 
in  them,  j  He  only  is  a  well-made  man  who  has  a 
good  determination.  And  the  end  of  culture  is 
not  to  destroy  this,  God  forbid  !  but  to  train  away 
all  impediment  and  mixture,  and  leave  nothing  but 
pure  power.  Our  student  must  have  a  style  and 
determination,  and  be  a  master  in  his  own  specialty. 
But,  having  this,  he  must  put  it  behind  him.  He 
must  have  a  catholicity,  a  power  to  see  with  a  free 
and  disengaged  look  every  object.  Yet  is  this  pri 
vate  interest  and  self  so  overcharged,  that,  if  a  man 
seeks  a  companion  who  can  look  at  objects  for  their 
own  sake,  and  without  affection  or  self-reference, 
he  will  find  the  fewest  who  will  give  him  that 
satisfaction  ;  whilst  most  men  are  afflicted  with  a 
coldness,  an  incuriosity,  as  soon  as  any  object  does 
not  connect  with  their  self-love.  Though  they 
talk  of  the  object  before  them,  they  are  thinking 
of  themselves,  and  their  vanity  is  laying  little  traps 
for  your  admiration. 

But  after  a  man  has  discovered  that  there  are 


CULTUEE.  117 

limits  to  the  interest  which  his  private  history  has 
for  mankind,  he  still  converses  with  his  family,  or  a 
few  companions,  —  perhaps  with  half  a  dozen  perr 
sonalities  that  are  famous  in  his  neighborhood.  In 
Boston,  the  question  of  life  is  the  names  of  some 
eight  or  ten  men.  Have  you  seen  Mr.  Allston, 
Doctor  Channing,  Mr.  Adams,  Mr.  Webster,  Mr. 
Greenough  ?  Have  you  heard  Everett,  Garrison, 
Father  Taylor,  Theodore  Parker  ?  Have  you 
talked  with  Messieurs  Turbinewheel,  Summitlevel, 
and  Lacofrupees  ?  Then  you  may  as  well  die.  In. 
New  York,  the  question  is  of  some  other  eight,  or 
ten,  or  twenty.  Have  you  seen  a  few  lawyers,  mer 
chants,  and  brokers,  —  two  or  three  scholars,  two 
or  three  capitalists,  two  or  three  editors  of  news 
papers  ?  New  York  is  a  sucked  orange.  All  con 
versation  is  at  an  end,  when  we  have  discharged 
ourselves  of  a  dozen  personalities,  domestic  or  im 
ported,  which  make  up  our  American  existence. 
Nor  do  we  expect  anybody  to  be  other  than  a  faint 
copy  of  these  heroes. 

Life  is  very  narrow.  Bring  any  club  or  company 
of  intelligent  men  together  again  after  ten  years, 
and  if  the  presence  of  some  penetrating  and  calm 
ing  geniu^  could  dispose  them  to  frankness,  what 
a  confession  of  insanities  would  come  up  !  The 
"causes"  to  which  we  have  sacrificed,  Tariff  or 
Democracy,  Whigism  or  Abolition,  Temperance  or 
Socialism,  would  show  like  roots  of  bitterness  and 


118  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

dragons  of  wrath  :  and  our  talents  are  as  mis 
chievous  as  if  each  had  been  seized  upon  by  some 
bird  of  prey,  which  had  whisked  him  away  from 
fortune,  from  truth,  from  the  dear  society  of  the 
poets,  some  zeal,  some  bias,  and  only  when  he  was 
now  gray  and  nerveless,  was  it  relaxing  its  claws, 
and  he  awaking  to  sober  perceptions. 

Culture  is  the  suggestion  from  certain  best 
thoughts,  that  a  man  has  a  range  of  affinities, 
through  which  he  can  modulate  the  violence  of  any 
master-tones  that  have  a  droning  preponderance  in 
his  scale,  and  succor  him  against  himself.  Culture 
redresses  his  balance,  puts  him  among  his  equals 
and  superiors,  revives  the  delicious  sense  of  sympa 
thy,  and  warns  him  of  the  dangers  of  solitude  and 
repulsion.  > 

'Tis  not  a  compliment  but  a  disparagement  to 
consult  a  man  only  on  horses,  or  on  steam,  or  on 
theatres,  or  on  eating,  or  on  books,  and,  whenever 
he  appears,  considerately  to  turn  the  conversation* 
to  the  bantling  he  is  known  to  fondle.  In  the 
Norse  heaven  of  our  forefathers,  Thor's  house  had 
five  hundred  and  forty  floors  ;  and  man's  house  has 
five  hundred  and  forty  floors.  His  excellence  is 
facility  of  adaptation  and  of  transition  through 
many  related  points,  to  wide  contrasts  and  ex 
tremes.  Culture  kills  his  exaggeration,  his  conceit 
of  his  village  or  his  city.  We  must  leave  our  pets 
at  home,  when  we  go  into  the  street,  and  meet  men 


CULTURE.  119 

on  broad  grounds  of  good  meaning  and  good  sense. 
No  performance  is  worth  loss  of  geniality.  'Tis  a 
cruel  price  we  pay  for  certain  fancy  goods  called 
fine  arts  and  philosophy.  In  the  Norse  legend,  All- 
fadir  did  not  get  a  drink  of  Mimir's  spring,  (the 
fountain  of  wisdom,)  until  .he  left  his  eye  in 
pledge.  And  here  is  a  pedant  that  cannot  unfold 
his  wrinkles,  nor  conceal  his  wrath  at  interruption 
by  the  best,  if  their  conversation  do  not  fit  his  im- 
pertinency,  —  here  is  he  to  afflict  us  with  his  per 
sonalities.  'Tis  incident  to  scholars,  that  each  of 
them  fancies  he  is  pointedly  odious  in  his  commu 
nity.  Draw  him  out  of  this  limbo  of  irritability. 
Cleanse  with  healthy  blood  his  parchment  skin. 
You  restore  to  him  his  eyes  which  he  left  in  pledge 
at  Mimir's  spring.  If  you  are  the  victim  of  your 
doing,  who  cares  what  you  do  ?  We  can  spare 
your  opera,  your  gazetteer,  y6ur  chemic  analysis, 
your  history,  your  syllogisms.  Your  man  of  genius 
pays  dear  for  his  distinction.  His  head  runs  up  into 
a  spire,  and  instead,  of  a  healthy  man,  merry  and 
wise,  he  is  some  mad  dominie.  Nature  is  reckless 
of  the  individual.  When  she  has  points  to  carry, 
she  carries  them.  To  wade  in  marshes  and  sea- 
margins  is  the  destiny  of  certain  birds,  and  they  are 
so  accurately  made  for  this,  that  they  are  imprisoned 
in  those  places.  Each  animal  out  of  its  habitat 
would  starve.  To  the  physician,  each  man,  each 
woman,  is  an  amplification  of  one  organ.  A  sol- 


120  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

dier,  a  locksmith,  a  bank-clerk,  and  a  dancer  could 
not  exchange  functions.  And  thus  we  are  victims 
of  adaptation. 

The  antidotes  against  this  organic  egotism,  are, 
the  range  and  variety  of  attractions,  as  gained  by 
acquaintance  with  the  world,  with  men  of  merit, 
with  classes  of  society,  with  travel,  with  eminent 
persons,  and  with  the  high  resources  of  philosophy, 
art,  and  religion :  books,  travel,  society,  solitude. 

The  hardiest  skeptic  who  has  seen  a  horse  broken, 
a  pointer  trained,  or,  who  has  visited  a  menagerie, 
or  the  exhibition  of  the'  Industrious  Fleas,  will  not 
deny  the  validity  of  education.  "A  boy,"  says 
Plato,  "  is  the  most  vicious  of  all  wild  beasts  ; " 
and,  in  the  same  spirit,  the  old  English  poet  Gas- 
coigne  says,  "  a  boy  is  better  unborn  than  un 
taught."  The  city  breeds  one  kind  of  speech  and 
manners ;  the  back-country  a  different  style ;  the 
sea,  another;  the  army,  a  fourth.  We  know  that 
an  army  which  can  be  confided  in,  may  be  formed 
by  discipline ;  that,  by  systematic  discipline  all  men 
may  be  made  heroes  :  Marshal  Lannes  said  to  a 
French  officer,  "  Know,  Colonel,  that  none  but  a 
poltroon  will  boast  that  he  never  was  afraid."  A' 
great  part  of  courage  is  the  courage  of  having  done 
the  thing  before.  And,  in  all  human  action,  those 
faculties  will  be  strong  which  are  used.  Robert 
Owen  said,  "  Give  me  a  tiger,  and  I  will  educate 
him."  'Tis  inhuman  to  want  faith  in  the  power 


CULTURE.  121 

of  education,  since  to  meliorate,  is  the  law  of  na 
ture ;  and  men  are  valued  precisely  as  they  exert 
onward  or  meliorating  force.  On  the  other  hand, 
poltroonery  is  the  acknowledging  an  inferiority  to 
be  incurable.  • 

Incapacity  of  melioration  is  the  only  mortal  dis 
temper.  There  are  people  who  can  never  under 
stand  a  trope,  or  any  second  or  expanded  sense 
given  to  your  words,  or  any  humor ;  but  remain 
literalists,  after  hearing  the  music,  and  poetry,  and 
rhetoric,  and  wit,  of  seventy  or  eighty  years.  They 
are  past  the  help  of  surgeon  or  clergy.  But  even 
these  can  understand  pitchforks  and  the  cry  of  fire ! 
and  I  have  noticed  in  some  of  this  class  a  marked 
dislike  of  earthquakes. 

Let  us  make  our  education  brave  and  preventive. 
Politics  is  an  after-work,  a  poor  patching.  We  are 
always  a  little  late.  The  evil  is  done,  the  law  is 
passed,  and  we  begin  the  up-hill  agitation  for  repeal 
of  that  of  which  we  ought  to  have  prevented  the 
enacting.  We  shall  one  day  learn  to  supersede 
politics  by  education.  What  we  call  our  root-and- 
branch  reforms  of  slavery,  war,  gambling,  intem 
perance,  is  only  medicating  the  symptoms.  We 
must  begin  higher  up,  namely,  in  Education. 

Our  arts  and  tools  give  to  him  who  can  handle 
them  much  the  same  advantage  over  the  novice,  as 
if  you  extended  his  life,  ten,  fifty,  or  a  hundred 
years.  And  I  think  it  the  part  of  good  sense  to 


122  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

provide  every  fine  soul  with  such  culture,  that  it 
shall  not,  at  thirty  or  forty  years,  have  to  say, 
4  This  which  I  might  do  is  made  hopeless  through 
my  want  of  weapons.' 

But  it  is  conceded  that  much  of  our  training  fails 
of  effect ;  that  all  success  is  hazardous  and  rare  ; 
that  a  large  part  of  our  cost  and  pains  is  thrown 
away.  Nature  takes  the  matter  into  her  own 
hands,  and,  though  we  must  not  omit  any  jot  of 
our  system,  we  can  seldom  be  sure  that  it  has 
availed  much,  or,  that  as  much  good  would  not 
have  accrued  from  a  different  system. 

Books,  as  containing  the  finest  records  of  human 
wit,  must  always  enter  into  our  notion  of  culture. 
The  best  heads  that  ever  existed,  Pericles,  Plato, 
Julius  Caesar,  Shakspeare,  Goethe,  Milton,  were 
well-read,  universally  educated  men,  and  quite  too 
wise  to  undervalue  letters.  Their  opinion  has 
weight,  because  they  had  means  of  knowing  the 
opposite  opinion.  We  look  that  a  great  man  should 
be  a  good  reader,  or,  in  proportion  to  the  spon 
taneous  power  should  be  the  assimilating  power. 
Good  criticism  is  very  rare,  and  always  precious. 
I  am  always  happy  to  meet  persons  who  perceive 
the  transcendent  superiority  of  Shakspeare  over  all 
other  writers.  I  like  people  who  like  Plato.  Be 
cause  this  love  does  not  consist  with  self-conceit. 

But  books  are  good  only  as  far  as  a  boy  is  ready 
for  them.  He  sometimes  gets  ready  very  slowly. 


CULTURE.  123 

You  send  your  child  to  the  schoolmaster,  but  'tis 
the  schoolboys  who  educate  him.  You  send  him  to 
the  Latin  class,  but  much  of  his  tuition  comes,  on 
his  way  to  school,  from  the  shop-windows.  You 
like  the  strict  rules  and  the  long  terms  ;  and  he 
finds  his  best  leading  in  a  by-way  of  his  own,  and 
refuses  any  companions  but  of  his  choosing.  He 
hates  the  grammar  and  G-radus,  and  loves  guns, 
fishing-rods,  horses,  and  boats.  Well,  the  boy  is 
right ;  and  you  are  not  fit  to  direct  his  bringing  up, 
if  your  theory  leaves  out  his  gymnastic  training. 
Archery,  cricket,  gun  and  fishing-rod,  horse  and 
boat,  are  all  educators,  liberalizers  ;  and  so  are 
dancing,  dress,  and  the  street-talk ;  and,  —  pro 
vided  only  the  boy  has  resources,  and  is  of  a  noble 
and  ingenuous  strain,  —  these  will  not  serve  him  less 
than  the  books.  He  learns  chess,  w^hist,  dancing, 
and  theatricals.  The  father  obserVes  that  another 
boy  has  learned  algebra  and  geometry  in  the  same 
time.  But  the  first  boy  has  acquired  much  more 
than  these  poor  games  along  with  them.  He  is  in 
fatuated  for  weeks  with  whist  and  chess  ;  but  pres 
ently  will  find  out,  as  you  did,  that  when  he  rises 
from  the  game  too  long  played,  he  is  vacant  and 
forlorn,  and  despises  himself.  Thenceforward  it 
takes  place  with  other  things,  and  has  its  due 
weight  in  his  experience.  These  minor  skills  and 
accomplishments,  for  example,  dancing,  are  tickets 
of  admission  to  the  dress-circle  of  mankind,  and  the 


124  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

being  master  of  them  enables  the  youth  to  judge  in 
telligently  of  much,  on  which,  otherwise,  he  would 
give  a  pedantic  squint.  Landor  said,  "  I  have 
suffered  more  from  my  bad  dancing,  than  from  all 
the  misfortunes  and  miseries  of  my  life  put  to 
gether."  Provided  always  the  boy  is  teachable, 
(for  we  are  not  proposing  to  make  a  statue  out 
of  punk,)  football,  cricket,  archery,  swimming, 
skating,  climbing,  fencing,  riding,  are  lessons  in 
the  art  of  power,  which  it  is  his  main  business  to 
learn;  —  riding,  specially,  of  which  Lord  Herbert 
of  Cherbury  said,  "  a  good  rider  on  a  good  horse  is 
as  much  above  himself  and  others  as  the  world  can 
make  him."  Besides,  the  gun,  fishing-rod,  boat, 
and  horse,  constitute,  among  all  who  use  them,  se 
cret  freemasonries.  They  are  as  if  they  belonged 
to  one  club. 

There  is  also*  a  negative  value  in  these  arts. 
Their  chief  use  to  the  youth,  is,  not  amusement, 
but  to  be  known  for  what  they  are,  and  not  to  re 
main  to  him  occasions  of  heart-burn.  We  are  full 
of  superstitions.  Each  class  fixes  its  eyes  on  the  ad 
vantages  it  has  not ;  the  refined,  on  rude  strength  ; 
the  democrat,  on  birth  and  breeding.  One  of  the 
benefits  of  a  college  education  is,  to  show  the  boy 
its  little  avail.  I  knew  a  leading  man  in  a  leading 
city,  who,  having  set  his  heart  on  an  education  at 
the  university,  and  missed  it,  could  never  quite  feel 
himself  the  equal  of  his  own  brothers  who  had  gone 


CULTURE.  125 

thither.  His  easy  superiority  to  multitudes  of  pro 
fessional  men  could  never  quite  countervail  to  him 
this  imaginary  defect.  Balls,  riding,  wine-parties, 
and  billiards,  pass  to  a  poor  boy  for  something  fine 
and  romantic,  which  they  are  not ;  and  a  free  ad 
mission  to  them  on  an  equal  footing,  if  it  were  pos 
sible,  only  once  or  twice,  would  be  worth  ten  times 
its  cost,  by  undeceiving  him, 

I  am  not  much  an  advocate  for  travelling,  and 
I  observe  that  men  run  away  to  other  countries,  be 
cause  they  are  not  good  in  their  own,  and  run  back 
to  their  own,  because  they  pass  for  nothing  in  the 
new  places.  For  the  most  part,  only  the  light  char 
acters  travel.  Who  are  you  that  have  no  task  to 
keep  you  at  home  ?  I  have  been  quoted  as  saying 
captious  things  about  travel ;  but  I  mean  to  do  jus 
tice.  I  think,  there  is  a  restlessness  in  our  people, 
which  argues  Want  of  character.  All  educated 
Americans,  first  or  last,  go  to  Europe  ;  —  perhaps, 
because  it  is  their  mental  home,  as  the  invalid  habits 
of  this  country  might  suggest.  An  eminent  teacher 
of  girls  said,  "  the  idea  of  a  girl's  education,  is, 
whatever  qualifies  them  for  going  to  Europe."  Can 
we  never  extract  this  tape-worm  of  Europe  from  the 
brain  of  our  countrymen  ?  One  sees  very  well  what 
their  fate  must  be.  He  that  does  not  fill  a  place  at 
home,  cannot  abroad.  He  only  goes  there  to  hide 
his  insignificance  in  a  larger  crowd.  You  do  not 
think  you  will  find  anything  there  which  you  have 


126  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

not  seen  at  home  ?  The  stuff  of  all  countries  is  just 
the  same.  Do  you  suppose,  there  is  any  country 
where  they  do  not  scald  milkpans,  and  swaddle  the 
infants,  and  burn  the  brushwood,  and  broil  the  fish  ? 
What  is  true  anywhere  is  true  everywhere.  And 
let  him  go  where  he  will,  he  can  only  find  so  much 
beauty  or  worth  as  he  carries. 

Of  course,  for  some  men,  travel  may  be  useful. 
Naturalists,  discoverers,  and  sailors  are  born.  Some 
men  are  made  for  couriers,  exchangers,  envoys,  mis 
sionaries,  bearers  of  despatches,  as  others  are  for 
farmers  and  working-men.  And  if  the  man  is  of  a 
light  and  social  turn,  and  Nature  has  aimed  to  make 
a  legged  and  winged  creature,  framed  for  locomo 
tion,  we  must  follow  her  hint,  and  furnish  him 
with  that  breeding  which  gives  ,  currency,  as  sedu 
lously  as  with  that  which  gives  worth.  But  let  us 
not  be  pedantic,  but  allow  to  travel  its  full  effect. 
The  boy  grown  up  on  the  farm,  which  he  has  never 
left,  is  said  in  the  country  to  have  had  no  chance, 
and  boys  and  men  of  that  condition  look  upon  work 
on  a  railroad,  or  drudgery  in  a  city,  as  opportunity. 
Poor  country  boys  of  Vermont  and  Connecticut 
formerly  owed  what  knowledge  they  had,  to  their 
peddling  trips  to  the  Southern  States.  California 
and  the  Pacific  Coast  is  now  the  university  of  this 
class,  as  Virginia  was  in  old  times.  '  To  have  some 
chance '  is  their  word.  And  the  phrase  '  to  know 
ithe  world,'  or  to  travel,  is  synonymous  with  all 


CULTUKE.  127 

men's  ideas  of  advantage  and  superiority.  No 
doubt,  to  a  man  of  sense,  travel  offers  advantages. 
/As  many  languages  as  he  has,  as  many  friends,  as 
many  arts  and  trades,  so  many  times  is  he  a  man. 
A  foreign  country  is  a  point  of  comparison,  where- 
from  to  judge  his  own.  One  use  of  travel,  is,  to 
recommend  the  books  and  works  of  home  ;  [we  go 
to  Europe  to  be  Americanized;]  and  another,  to' 
find  men.  For,  as  Nature  has  put  fruits  apart  in 
latitudes,  a  new  fruit  in  every  degree,  so  knowledge 
and  fine  moral  quality  she  lodges  in  distant  men. 
And  thus,  of  the  six  or  seven  teachers  whom  each 
man  wants  among  his  contemporaries,  it  often  hap 
pens,  that  one  or  two  of  them  live  on  the  other  side 
of  the  world. 

Moreover,  there  is  in  every  constitution  a  certain 
solstice,  when  the  stars  stand  still  in  our  inward 
firmament,  and  when  there  is  required  some  foreign 
force,  some  diversion  or  alterative  to  prevent  stag 
nation.  And,  as  a  medical  remedy,  travel  seems 
one  of  the  best.  Just  as  a  man  witnessing  the  ad 
mirable  effect  of  ether  to  lull  pain,  and  meditating 
on  the  contingencies  of  wounds,  cancers,  lockjaws, 
rejoices  in  Dr.  Jackson's  benign  discovery,  so  a 
man  who  looks  at  Paris,  at  Naples,  or  at  London, 
says,  c  If  I  should  be  driven  from  my  own  home, 
here,  at  least,  my  thoughts  can  be  consoled  by  the 
most  prodigal  amusement  and  occupation  which  the 
human  race  in  ages  could  contrive  and  accumulate.' 


128  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

Akin  to  the  benefit  of  foreign  travel,  the  aesthetic 
value  of  railroads  is  to  unite  the  advantages  of  town 
and  country  life,  neither  of  which  we  can  spare. 
A  man  should  live  in  or  near  a  large  town,  because, 
let  his  own  genius  be  what  it  may,  it  will  repel 
quite  as  much  of  agreeable  and  valuable  talent  as  it 
draws,  and,  in  a  city,  the  total  attraction  of  all  the 
"  citizens  is  sure  to  conquer,  first  or  last,  every  repul 
sion,  and  drag  the  most  improbable  hermit  within 
its  walls  some  day  in  the  year.  In  town,  he  can 
find  the  swimming-school,  the  gymnasium,  the  dan 
cing-master,  the  shooting-gallery,  opera,  theatre, 
and  panorama ;  the  chemist's  shop,  the  museum  of 
natural  history ;  the  gallery  of  fine  arts  ;  the  na 
tional  orators,  in  their  turn  ;  foreign  travellers  the 
libraries,  and  his  club.  In  the  country,  he  can'  find 
solitude  and  reading,  manly  labor,  cheap  living,  and 
his  old  shoes  ;  moors  for  game,  hills  for  geology, 
and  groves  for  devotion.  Aubrey  writes,  "  I  have 
heard  Thomas  Hobbes  say,  that,  in  the  Earl  of 
Devon's  house,  in  Derbyshire,  there  was  a  good 
library  and  books  enough  for  him,  and  his  lordship 
stored  the  library  with  what  books  he  thought  fit 
to  be  bought.  But  the  want  of  good  conversa 
tion  was  a  very  great  inconvenience,  and,  though 
he  conceived  he  could  order  his  thinking  as  well 
as  another,  yet  he  found  a  great  defect.  In  the 
country,  in  long  time,  for  want  of  good  conver 
sation,  one's  understanding  and  invention  con- 


CULTURE.  129 

tract  a  moss    on  them,  like  an  old   paling  in  an 
orchard." 

Cities  give  us  collision.  'Tis  said,  London  and 
New  York  take  the  nonsense  out  of  a  man.  A 
great  part  of  our  education  is  sympathetic  and  so 
cial.  Boys  and  girls  who  have  been  brought  up 
with  well-informed  and  superior  people,  show  in 
their  manners  an  inestimable  grace.  Fuller  says, 
that  "  William,  Earl  of  Nassau,  won  a  subject  from 
the  King  of  Spain,  every  time  he  put  off  his  hat." 
You  cannot  have  one  well-bred  man,  without  a 
whole  society  of  such.  They  keep  each  other  up  to 
any  high  point.  Especially  women  ;  —  it  requires  a 
great  many  cultivated  women,  —  saloons  of  bright, 
elegant,  reading  women,  accustomed  to  ease  and  re 
fine^  ent,  to  spectacles,  pictures,  sculpture,  poetry, 
and  to  elegant  society,  in  order  that  you  should 
have  one  Madame  de  Stael.  The  head  of  a  com 
mercial  house,  or  a  leading  lawyer  or  politician  is 
brought  into  daily  contact  with  troops  of  men  from 
all  parts  of  the  country,  and  those  too  the  driving- 
wheels,  the  business  men  of  eacli  section,  and  one 
can  hardly  suggest  for  an  apprehensive  man  a  more 
searching  culture.  Besides,  we  must  remember  the 
high  social  possibilities  of  a  million  of  men.  The 
best  bribe  which  London  offers  to-day  to  the  im 
agination,  is,  that,  in  such  a  vast  variety  of  people 
and  conditions,  one  can  believe  thei*e  is  room  for 
persons  of  romantic  character  to  exist,  and  that  the 

6* 


130  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

poet,  the  mystic,  and  the  hero  may  hope  to  confront 
tlieir  counterparts. 

,1  wish  cities  could  teach  their  best  lesson,  —  of\ 
quiet  manners.  It  is  the  foible  especially  of  Amer 
ican  youth,  —  pretension.  The  mark  of  the  man 
of  the  world  is  absence  of  pretension.  He  does 
not  make  a  speech  ;  he  takes  a  low  business-tone, 
avoids  all  brag,  is  nobody,  dresses  plainly,  promises 
not  at  all,  performs  much,  speaks  in  monosyllables, 
hugs  his  fact.  *  He  calls  his  employment  by  its 
lowest  name,  and  so  takes  from  evil  tongues  their 
sharpest  weapon.  His  conversation  clings  to  the 
weather  and  the  news,  yet  he  allows  himself  to  be 
surprised  into  thought,  and  the  unlocking  of  his 
learning  and  philosophy.  How  the  imagination  is 
piqued  by  anecdotes  of  some  great  man  passing  in 
cognito,  as  a  king  in  gray  clothes,  —  of  Napoleon 
affecting  a  plain  suit  at  his  glittering  levee ;  of 
Burns,  or  Scott,  or  Beethoven,  or  Wellington,  or 
Goethe,  or  any  container,  of  transcendent  power, 
passing  for  nobody ;  of  Epaminondas,  "  who  never 
says  anything,  but  will  listen  eternally;"  of  Goethe, 
who  preferred  trifling  subjects  and  common  expres 
sions  in  intercourse  with  strangers,  worse  rather 
than  better  clothes,  and  to  appear  a  little  more  ca 
pricious  than  he  was.  There  are  advantages  in  the 
old  hat  and  box-coat.  I  have  heard,  that,  through 
out  this  country,  a  certain  respect  is  paid  to  good 
broadcloth ;  but  dress  makes  a  little  restraint :  men 


CULTURE.  131 

will  not  commit  themselves.  .  But  the  box-coat  is 
like  wine ;  it  unlocks  the  tongue,  and  men  say  what 
they  think.  An  old  poet  says, 

"  Go  far  and  go  sparing, 
For  you'll  find  it  certain, 
The  poorer  and  the  baser  you  appear, 
The  more  you'll  look  through  still."  # 

Not  much  otherwise  Milnes  writes,  in  the  "  Lay  of 
the  Humble," 

^  "  To  me  men  are  for  what  they  are, 

They  wear  no  masks  with  me." 

'Tis  odd  that  our  people  should  have  —  not  water 
on  the  brain,  —  but  a  little  gas  there.  A  shrewd 
foreigner  said  of  the  Americans,  that,  "  whatever 
they  say  has  a  little  the  air  of  a  speech."  Yet  one 
of  the  traits  down  in  the  books-  as  distinguishing  the 
Anglo-Saxon,  is,  a  trick  of  self-disparagement.  To 
be  sure,  in  old,  dense  countries,  among  a  million  of 
good  coats,  a  fine  coat  comes  to  be  no  distinction, 
and  you  find  humorists.  In  an  English  party,  a 
man  with  no  marked  manners  or  features,  with  a 
face  like  red  dough,  unexpectedly  discloses  wit, 
learning,  a  wide  range  of  topics,  and  personal  fa 
miliarity  with  good  men  in  all  parts  of  the  world, 
until  you  think  you  have  fallen  upon  some  illus 
trious  personage.  Can  it  be  that  the  American 

*  Beaumont  and  Fletcher:    The  Tamer  Tamed. 


132  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

forest  has  refreshed  some  weeds  of  old  Pictish  bar 
barism  just  ready  to  die  out,  —  the  love  of  the  scarlet 
feather,  of  beads,  and  tinsel  ?  The  Italians  are  fond 
of  red  clothes,  peacock  plumes,  and  embroidery  ; 
and  I  remember  one  rainy  morning  in  the  city 
of  Palermo,  the  street  was  in  a  blaze  with  scarlet 
umbrellas.  The  English  have  a  plain  taste.  The 
equipages  of  the  grandees  are  plain.  A  gorgeous 
livery  indicates  new  and  awkward  city  wealth. 
Mr.  Pitt,  like  Mr.  Pym,  thought  the  title  of  Mister 
good  against  any  king  in  Europe.  They  have 
piqued  themselves  on  governing  the  whole  world 
in  the  poor,  plain,  dark  Committee-room 'which  the 
House  of  Commons  sat  in,  before  the  fire. 

Whilst  we  want  cities  as  the  centres  where  the 
best  things  are  found,  cities  degrade  us  by  magnify 
ing  trifles.  The  countryman  finds  the  town  a  chop- 
house,  a  barber's  shop.  He  has  lost  the  lines  of 
grandeur  of  the  horizon,  hills  and  plains,  and  with 
them,  sobriety  and  elevation.  He  has  come  among 
a  supple,  glib-tongued  tribe,  who  live  for  show,  ser 
vile  to  public  opinion.  Life  is  dragged  down  to  a 
fracas  of  pitiful  cares  and  disasters.  ^You  say  the 
gods  ought  to  respect  a  life  whose  objects  are  their 
own ;  but  in  cities  they  have  betrayed  you  to  a 
cloud  of  insignificant  annoyances  : 

"  Mirmidons,  race  fSconde, 
Mirmidons, 
Enfin  nous  commandons; 


CULTURE.  133 

Jupiter  livre  le  monde 

Aux  mirmidons,  aux  mirmidons."  # 

'Tis  heavy  odds 

Against  the  gods, 

When  they  will  match  with  myrmidons. 

We  spawning,  spawning  myrmidons, 

Our  turn  to-day!   we  take  command, 

Jove  gives  the  globe  into  the  hand 

Of  myrmidons,  of  myrmidons. 

What  is  odious  but  noise,  and  people  who  scream 
and  bewail  ?  people  whose  vane  points  always  east, 
who  live  to  dine,  who  send  for  the  doctor,  who  cod 
dle  themselves,  who  toast  their  feet  on  the  register, 
who  intrigue  to  secure  a  padded  chair,  and  a  corner 
out  of  the  draught.  Suffer  them  once  to  begin  the 
enumeration  of  their  infirmities,  and  the  sun  will  go 
down  on  the  unfinished  tale.%=JLet  these  triflers  put 
us  out  of  conceit  with  petty  comforts.  To  a  man 
at  work,  the  frost  is  but  a  color :  the  rain,  the 
wind,  he  forgot  them  when  he  came  in.  Let  us 
learn  to  live  coarsely,  dress  plainly,  and  lie  hard. 
The  least  habit  of  dominion  over  the  palate  has  cer 
tain  good  effects  not  easily  estimated.  Neither  will 
we  be  driven  into  a  quiddling  abstemiousness.  'Tis 
a  superstition  to  insist  on  a  special  diet.  All  is 
made  at  last  of  the  same  chemical  .atoms. 

A  man  in  pursuit  of  greatness  feels  no  little 
wants.  How  can  you  mind  diet,  bed,  dress,  or 
salutes  or  compliments,  or  the  figure  you  make  in 

*  Be"ranger. 


134  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

company,  or  wealth,  or  even  the  bringing  things  to 
pass,  when  you  think  how  paltry  are  the  machinery 
and  the  workers  ?  Wordsworth  was  praised  to  me, 
in  Westmoreland,  for  having  afforded  to  his  country 
neighbors  an  example  of  a  modest  household  where 
comfort  and  culture  were  secured,  without  display. 
And  a  tender  boy  who  wears  his  rusty  cap  and  out 
grown  coat,  that  he  may  secure  the  coveted  place  in 
college,  and  the  right  in  the  library,  is  educated  to 
some  purpose.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  self-denial 
and  manliness  in  poor  and  middle-class  houses,  in 
town  and  country,  that  has  not  got  into  literature, 
and  never  will,  but  that  keeps  the  earth  sweet ;  that 
saves  on  superfluities,  and  spends  on  essentials ;  that 
goes  rusty,  and  educates  the  boy ;  that  sells  the 
horse,  but  Hbuilds  the  school ;  works  early  and  late, 
takes  two  looms  in  the  factory,  three  looms,  six 
looms,  but  pays  off  the  mortgage  on  the  pater 
nal  farm,  and  then  goes  back  cheerfully  to  work 
again. 

.  We  can  ill  spare  the  commanding  social  benefits 
of  cities ;  they  must  be  used ;  yet  cautiously,  and 
haughtily,  —  and  will  yield  their  best  values  to  him 
who  best  can  do  without  them.  Keep  the  town  for 
occasions,  but  the  habits  should  be  formed  to  retire 
ment.  Solitude,  the  safeguard  of  mediocrity,  is  to 
genius  the  stern  friend,  the  cold,  obscure  shelter 
where  moult  the  wings  which  will  bear  it  farther 
than  suns  and  stars.  He  who  should  inspire  and 


CULTURE.  135 

lead  his  race  must  be  defended  from  travelling  with. 

o 

the  souls  of  other  men,  from  living,  breathing,  read 
ing,  and  writing  in  the  daily,  time-worn  yoke  of 
their  opinions.  "  In  the  morning,  —  solitude  ;  " 
said  Pythagoras  ;  that  Nature  may  speak  to  the 
imagination,  as  she  does  never  in  company,  and 
that  her  favorite  may  make  acquaintance  with  those 
divine  strengths  which  disclose  themselves  to  se 
rious  and  abstracted  thought.  'Tis  very  certain 
that  Plato,  Plotinus,  Archimedes,  Hermes,  Newton, 
Milton,  Wordsworth,  did  not  live  in  a  crowd,  but 
descended  into  it  from  time  to  time  as  benefactors  : 
and  the  wise  instructor  will  press  this  point  of  se 
curing  to  the  young  soul  in  the  disposition  of  time 
and  the  arrangements  of  living,  periods  and  habits 
of  solitude.  The  high  advantage  of  university-life 
is  often  the  mere  mechanical  one,  I  may  call  it, 
of  a  separate  chamber  and  fire,  —  which  parents 
will  allow  the  boy  without  hesitation  at  Cam 
bridge,  but  do  not  think  needful  at  home.  We 
say  solitude,  to  mark  the  character  of  the  tone  of 
thought ;  but  if  it  can  be  shared  between  two  or 
more  than  two,  jt  is  happier,  and  not  less  noble. 
"  We  four,"  wrote  Neander  to  his  sacred  friends, 
"  will  enjoy  at  Halle  the  inward  blessedness  of  a 
zivitas  Dei,  whose  foundations  are  forever  friend 
ship.  The  more  I  know  you,  the  more  I  dissat 
isfy  and  must  dissatisfy  all  my  wonted  companions. 
Their  very  presence  stupefies  me.  The  common 


136  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

understanding  withdraws  itself  from  the  one  centre 
of-  all  existence." 

Solitude  takes  off  the  pressure  of  present  impor 
tunities  that  more  catholic  and  humane  relations 
may  appear.  The  saint  and  poet  seek  privacy  to 
ends  the  most  public  and  universal :  and  it  is  the 
secret  of  culture,  to  interest  the  man  more  in  his 
public,  than  in  his  private  quality.  Here  is  a  new 
poem,  which  elicits  a  good  many  comments  in  the 
journals,  and  in  conversation.  From  these  it  is 
easy,  at  last,  to  eliminate  the  verdict  which  readers 
passed  upon  it ;  and  that  is,  in  the  main,  unfavor 
able.  The  poet,  as  a  craftsman,  is  only  interested 
in  the  praise  accorded  to  him,  and  not  in  the  cen 
sure,  though  it  be  just.  And  the  poor  little  poet 
hearkens  only  to  that,  and  rejects  the  censure,  as 
proving  incapacity  in  the  critic.  But  the  poet  cul 
tivated  becomes  a  stockholder  in  both  companies, — 
say  Mr.  Curfew,  —  in  the  Curfew  stock,  and  in  the 
humanity  stock ;  and,  in  the  last,  exults  as  much  in 
the  demonstration  of  the  unsoundness  of  Curfew,  as 
his  interest  in  the  former  gives  him  pleasure  in  the 
currency  of  Curfew.  For,  the  depreciation  of  his 
Curfew  stock  only  shows  the  immense  values  of  the 
humanity  stock.  As  soon  as  he  sides  with  his 
critic  against  himself,  with  joy,  he  is  a  cultivated 
man. 

We  must  have  an  intellectual  quality  in  all  prop 
erty  and  in  all  action,  or  they  are  nought.  I  must 


CULTURE.  137 

have  children,  I  must  have  events,  I  must  have  a 
social  state  and  history,  or  my  thinking  and  speak 
ing  want  body  or  basis.  But  to  give  these  acces 
sories  any  value,  I  must  know  them  as  contingent 
and  rather  showy  possessions,  which  pass  for  more 
to  the  people  than  to  me.  We  see  this  abstraction 
In  scholars,  as  a  matter  of  course :  but  what  a  charm 
it  adds  when  observed  in  practical  men.  Bonaparte, 
like  Csesar,  was  intellectual,  and  could  look  at  every 
object  for  itself,  without  affection .  Though  an  ego 
tist  d  Voutrance,  he  could  criticize  a  play,  a  build 
ing,  a  character,  on  universal  grounds,  and  give  a 
just  opinion.  A  man  known  to  us  only  as  a  ce 
lebrity  in  politics  or  in  trade,  gains  largely  in  our 
esteem  if  we  discover  that  he  has  some  intellectual 
taste  or  skill ;  as  when  we  learn  of  Lord  Fairfax, 
the  Long  Parliament's  general,  his  passion  for  anti 
quarian  studies  ;  or  of  the  French  regicide  Carnot, 
his  sublime  genius  in  mathematics ;  or  of  a  living 
banker,  his  success  in  poetry ;  or  of  a  partisan 
journalist,  his  devotion  to  ornithology.  So,  if  in 
travelling  in  the  dreary  wildernesses  of  Arkansas 
or  Texas,  'we  should  observe  on  the  next  seat  a 
man  reading  Horace,  or  Martial,  or  Calderon,  wTe 
should  wish  to  hug  him.  In  callings  that  re 
quire  roughest  energy,  soldiers,  sea-captains,  and 
civil  engineers  sometimes  betray  a  fine  insight,  if 
only  through  a  certain  gentleness  when  off  duty ; 
a  good-natured  admission  that  there  are  illusions, 


138  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

and  who  shall  say  that  he  is  not  their  sport  ? 
We  only  vary  the  phrase,  not  the  doctrine,  when 
we  say,  that  culture  opens  the  sense  of  beauty. 
A  man  is  a  beggar  who  only  lives  to  the  useful, 
and,  however  he  may  serve  as  a  pin  or  rivet  in 
the  social  machine,  cannot  be  said  to  have  arrived 
at  self-possession.  I  suffer,  every  day,  from  the 
want  of  perception  of  beauty  in  people.  They  do 
not  know  the  charm  with  which  all  moments  and 
objects  can  be  embellished,  the  charm  of  man 
ners,  of  self-command,  of  benevolence.  Repose 
and  cheerfulness  are  the  badge  of  the  gentleman, 
—  repose  in  energy.  The  Greek  battle-pieces  are 
calm  ;  the  heroes,  in  whatever  violent  actions  en 
gaged,  retain  a  serene  aspect ;  as  we  say  of  Niag 
ara,  that  it  falls  without  speed.  A  cheerful,  intelli 
gent  face  is  the  end  of  culture,  and  success  enough. 
For  it  indicates  the  purpose  of  Nature  and  wisdom 
attained. 

When  our  higher  faculties  are  in  activity,  we  are 
domesticated,  and  awkwardness  and  discomfort  give 
place  to  natural  and  agreeable  movements.  It  is 
noticed,  that  the  consideration  of  the  great  periods 
and  spaces  of  astrononiy  induces  a  dignity  of  mind, 
and  an  indifference  to  death.  The  influence  of  fine 
scenery,  the  presence  of  mountains,  appeases  our 
irritations  and  elevates  our  friendships.  Even  a 
high  dome,  and  the  expansive  interior  of  a  cathe 
dral,  have  a  sensible  effect  on  manners.  I  have 


CULTURE.  139 

heard  that  stiff  people  lose  something  of  their  awk 
wardness  under  high  ceilings,  and  in  spacious  halls. 
I  think,  sculpture  and  painting  have  an  effect  to 
teach  us  manners,  and  abolish  hurry. 

But,  over  all,  culture  must  reinforce  from  higher 
influx  the  empirical  skills  of  eloquence,  or  of  poli 
tics,  or  of  trade,  and  the  useful  arts.  There  is  a 
certain  loftiness  of  thought  and  power  to  marshal 
and  adjust  particulars,  which  can  only  come  from 
an  insight  of  their  whole  connection.  The  orator 
who  has  once  seen  things  in  their  divine  order,  will 
never  quite  lose  sight  of  this,  and  will  come  to  affairs 
as  from  a  higher  ground,  and,  though  he  will  say 
nothing  of  philosophy,  he  will  have  a  certain  mas 
tery  in  dealing  with  them,  and  an  incapableness  of 
being  dazzled  or  frighted,  which  will  distinguish  his 
handling  from  that  of  attorneys  and  factors.  A 
man  who  stands  on  a  good  footing  with  the  heads 
of  parties  at  Washington,  reads  the  rumors  of  the 
newspapers,  and  the  guesses  of  provincial  poli 
ticians,  with  a  key  to  the  right  and  wrong  in  each 
statement,  and  sees  well  enough  where  all  this  will 
end.  Archimedes  will  look  through  your  Connect 
icut  machine,  at  a  glance,  and  judge  of  its  fitness. 
And  much  more,  a  wise  man  who  knows  not  only 
what  Plato,  but  what  Saint  John  can  show  him, 
can  easily  raise  the  affair  he  deals  with,  to  a  certain 
majesty.  Plato  says,  Pericles  owed  this  elevation  to 
the  lessons  of  Anaxagoras.  Burke  descended  from 


140  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

a  higher  sphere  when  he  would  influence  human 
affairs.  Franklin,  Adams,  Jefferson,  Washington, 
stood  on  a  fine  humanity,  before  which  the  brawls 
of  modern  senates  are  but  pot-house  politics. 

But  there  are  higher  secrets  of  culture,  which 
are  not  for  the  apprentices,  but  for  proficients. 
These  are  lessons  only  for  the  brave.  We  must 
know  our  friends  under  ugly  masks.  The  calami 
ties  are  our  friends.  Ben  Jonson  specifies  in  his 
address  to  the  Muse  :  — 

"  Get  him  the  time's  long  grudge,  the  court's  ill-will, 
And,  reconciled,  keep  him  suspected  still, 
Make  him  lose  all  his  friends,  and,  what  is  worse, 
Almost  all  ways  to  any  better  course; 
With  me  thou  leav'st  a  better  Muse  than  thee, 
And  which  thou  brought'st  me,  blessed  Poverty." 

We  wish  to  learn  philosophy  by  rote,  and  play  at 
heroism.  But  the  wiser  God  says,  Take  the  shame, 
the  poverty,  and  the  penal  solitude,  that  belong  to 
truth-speaking.  Try  the  rough  water  as  well  as 
the  smooth.  Rough  water  can  teach  lessons  worth 
knowing.  When  the  state  is  unquiet,  personal  qual 
ities  are  more  than  ever  decisive.  Fear  not  a  revo 
lution  which  will  constrain  you  to  live  five  years  in 
one.  Don't  be  so  tender  at  making  an  enemy  now 
and  then.  Be  willing  to  go  to  Coventry  sometimes, 
nnd  let  the  populace  bestow  on  you  their  coldest 
contempts.  The  finished  man  of  the  world  must 
eat  of  every  apple  once.  He  must  hold  his  hatreds 


CULTURE.  141 

also  at  arm's  length,  and  not  remember  spite.  He 
has  neither  friends  nor  enemies,  but  values  men 
only  as  channels  of  power. 

He  who  aims  high,  must  dread  an  easy  home  and 
popular  manners.  Heaven  sometimes  hedges  a  rare 

m    •  M  O 

character  about  with  ungainliness  and  odium,  as  the 
burr  that  protects  the  fruit.  If  there  is  any  great 
and  good  thing  in  store  for  you,  it  will  not  come  at 
the  first  or  the  second  call,  nor  in  the  shape  of  fash 
ion,  ease,  and  city  drawing-rooms.  Popularity  is 
for  dolls.  "  Steep  and  craggy,"  said  Porphyry,  "  is 
the  path  of  the  gods."  Open  your  Marcus  Anto 
ninus.  In  the  opinion  of  the  ancients,  he  was  the 
great  man  who  scorned  to  shine,  and  who  contested 
the  frowns  of  fortune.  They  preferred  the  noble 
vessel  too  late  for  the  tide,  contending  with  winds 
and  waves,  dismantled  and  unrigged,  to  her  com 
panion  borne  into  harbor  with  colors  flying  and 
guns  firing.  There  is  none  of  the  social  goods  that 
may  not  be  purchased  too  dear,  and  mere  amiable- 
ness  must  not  take  rank  with  high  aims  and  self- 
subsistency. 

Bettine  replies  to  Goethe's  mother,  who  chides 
her  disregard  of  dress, —  "  If  I  cannot  do  as  I  have 
a  mind,  in  our  poor  Frankfort,  I  shall  not  carry 
things  far."  And  the  youth  must  rate  at  its  true 
mark  the  inconceivable  levity  of  local  opinion. 
The  longer  we  live,  the  more  we  must  endure  the 
elementary  existence  of  men  and  women  ;  and 


142  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

every  brave  heart  must  treat  society  as  a  child,  and 
never  allow  it  to  dictate. 

"  All  that  class  of  the  severe  and  restrictive 
virtues,"  said  Burke,  "  are  almost  too  costly  for 
humanity."  Who  wishes  to  be  severe  ?  Who 
wishes  to  resist  the  eminent  and  polite,  in  behalf 
of  the  poor,  and  low,  and  impolite  ?  and  who  that 
dares  do  it,  can  keep  his  temper  sweet,  his  frolic 
spirits  ?  The  high  virtues  are  not  debonair,  but 
have  their  redress  in  being  illustrious  at  last. 
What  forests  of  laurel  we  bring,  and  the  tears  of 
mankind,  to  those  who  stood  firm  against  the  opin 
ion  of  their  contemporaries  !  The  measure  of  a 
master  is  his  success  in  bringing  all  men  round  to 
his  opinion  twenty  years  later. 

Let  me  say  here,  that  culture  cannot  begin  too 
early.  In  talking  with  scholars,  I  observe  that  they 
lost  on  ruder  companions  those  years  of  boyhood 
which  alone  could  give  imaginative  literature  a  re 
ligious  and  infinite  quality  in  their  esteem.  I  find, 
too,  that  the  chance  for  appreciation  is  much  in 
creased  by  being  the  son  of  an  appreciator,  and  that 
these  boys  who  now  grow  up  are  caught  not  only 
years  too  late,  but  two  or  three  births  too  late,  to 
make  the  best  scholars  of.  And  I  think  it  a  pre 
sentable  motive  to  a  scholar,  that,  as,  in  an  old  com 
munity,  a  well-born  proprietor  is  usually  found,  after 
the  first  heats  of  youth,  to  be  a  careful  husband,  and 
to  feel  a  habitual  desire  that  the  estate  shall  suffer 


CULTURE.  143 

no  harm  by  his  administration,  but  shall  be  deliv 
ered  down  to  the  next  heir  in  as  good  condition  as 
he  received  it ;  —  so,  a  considerate  man  will  reckon 
himself  a  subject  of  that  secular  melioration  by 
which  mankind  is  mollified,  cured,  and  refined,  and 
will  shun  every  expenditure  of  his  forces  on  pleas 
ure  or  gain,  which  will  jeopardize  this  social  and 
secular  accumulation. 

The  fossil  strata  show  us  that  Nature  began  with 
rudimental  forms,  and  rose  to  the  more  complex,  as 
fast  as  the  earth  was  fit  for  their  dwelling-place  ;  and 
that  the  lower  perish,  as  the  higher  appear.  Very 
few  of  our  race  can  be  said  to  be  yet  finished  men. 
We  still  carry  sticking  to  us  some  remains  of  the 
preceding  inferior  quadruped  organization.  We 
call  these  millions  men  ;  but  they  are  not  yet  men. 
Half-engaged  in  the  soil,  pawing  to  get  free,  man 
needs  all  the  music  that  can  be  brought  to  disen 
gage  him.  If  Love,  red  Love,  with  tears  and  joy ; 
if  Want  with  his  scourge^;  if  War  with  his  cannon 
ade  ;  if  Christianity  with  its  charity ;  if  Trade  with 
its  money ;  if  Art  with  its  portfolios;  if  Science 
with  her  telegraphs  through  the  deeps  of  space  and 
time  ;  can  set  his  dull  nerves  throbbing,  and  by  loud 
taps  on  the  tough  chrysalis,  can  break  its  walls,  and 
let  the  new  creature  emerge  erect  and  free,  —  make 
way,  and  sing  psean  !  The  age  of  the  quadruped 
is  to  go  out,  —  the  age  of  the  brain  and  of  the  heart 
is  to  come  in.  The  time  will  come  when  the  evil 


144  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

forms  we  have  known  can  no  more  be  organized. 
Man's  culture  can  spare  nothing,  wants  all  the 
material.  He  is  to  convert  all  impediments  into 
instruments,  all  enemies  into  power.  The  formi 
dable  mischief  will  only  make  th«  more  useful  slave. 
And  if  one  shall  read  the  future  of  the  race  hinted 
in  the  organic  effort  of  Nature  to  mount  and  melio 
rate,  and  the  corresponding  impulse  to  the  Better 
in  the  human  being,  we  shall  dare  affirm  that  there 
is  nothing  he  will  not  overcome  and  convert,  until 
at  last  culture  shall  absorb  the  chaos  and  gehenna. 
He  will  convert  the  Furies  into  Muses,  and  the 
hells  into  benefit. 


V. 

BEHAVIOK. 


GRACE,  Beauty,  and  Caprice 

Build  this  golden  portal ; 

Graceful  women,  chosen  men 

Dazzle  every  mortal : 

Their  sweet  and  lofty  countenance 

His  enchanting  food  ; 

He  need  not  go  to  them,  their  forms 

Beset  his  solitude. 

He  looketh  seldom  in  their  face, 

His  eyes  explore  the  ground, 

The  green  grass  is  a  looking-glass 

Whereon  their  traits  are  found. 

Little  he  says  to  them, 

So  dances  his  heart  in  his  breast, 

Their  tranquil  mien  bereaveth  him 

Of  wit,  of  words,  of  rest. 

Too  weak  to  win,  too  fond  to  shun 

The  tyrants  of  his  doom, 

The  much  deceived  Endymion 

Slips  behind  a  tomb. 


BEHAVIOR. 

THE  soul  which  animates  Nature  is  not  less  sig 
nificantly  published  in  the  figure;  movement,  and 
gesture  of  animated  bodies,  than  in  its  last  vehicle 
of  articulate  speech.  This  silent  and  subtile  lan 
guage  is  Manners  ;  not  what,  but  how.  Life  ex 
presses.  A  statue  has  no  tongue,  and  needs 
none.  Good  tableaux  do  not  need  declamation. 
Nature  tells  every  secret  once.  Yes,  but  in  man 
she  tells  it  all  the  time,  by  form,  attitude,  gesture, 
mien,  face,  and  parts  of  the  face,  and  by  the  whole 
action  of  the  machine.  The  visible  carriage  or  ac 
tion  of  the  individual,  as  resulting  from  his  organ 
ization  and  his  will  combined,  we  call  manners. 
What  are  they  but  thought  entering  the  hands  and 
feet,  controlling  the  movements  ,of  the  body,  the 
speech  and  behavior  ? 

There  is  always  a  best  way  of  doing  everything, 
if  it  be  to  boil  an  egg.  Manners  are  the  happy 
ways  of  doing  things  ;  each  once  a  stroke  of  genius 
or  of  love,  —  now  repeated  and  hardened  into  usage. 
They  form  at  last  a  rich  varnish,  with  which  the 
routine  of  life  is  washed,  and  its  details  adorned. 


148  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

If  they  are  superficial,  so  are  the  dew-drops  which 
give  such  a  depth  to  the  morning  meadows.  Man 
ners  are  very  communicable  :  men  catch  them 
from  each  other.  Consuelo,  in  the  romance,  hoasts 
of  the  lessons  she  had  given  the  nobles  in  manners, 
on  the  stage ;  and,  in  real  life,  Talma  taught 
Napoleon  the  arts  of  behavior.  Genius  invents 
fine  manners,  which  the  baron  and  the  baroness 
copy  very  fast,  and,  by  the  advantage  of  a  palace, 
better  the  instruction.  They  stereotype  the  lesson 
they  have  learned  into  a  mode. 

The  power  of  manners  is  incessant,  —  an  element 
as  unconcealable  as  fire.  The  nobility  cannot  in 
any  country  be  disguised,  and  no  more  in  a  republic 
or  a  democracy,  than  in  a  kingdom.  No  man  can 
resist  their  influence.  There  are  certain  manners 
which  are  learned  in  good  society,  of  that  force, 
that,  if  a  person  have  them,  he  or  she  must  be  con 
sidered,  and  is  everywhere  welcome,  though  with 
out  beauty,  or  wealth,  or  genius.  Give  a  boy 
address  and  accomplishments,  and  you  give  him 
the  mastery  of  palaces  and  fortunes  where  he  goes. 
He  has  not  the  trouble  of  earning  or  owning  them  • 
they  solicit  him  to  enter  and  possess.  We  send 
girls  of  a  timid,  retreating  disposition  to  the  board 
ing-school,  to  the  riding-school,  to  the  ballroom,  or 
wheresoever  they  can  come  into  acquaintance  and 
nearness  of  leading  persons  of  their  own  sex  ;  where 
they  might  learn  address,  and  see  it  near  at  hand. 


BEHAVIOR.  149 

The  power  of  a  woman  of  fashion  to  lead,  and  also 
to  daunt  and  repel,  derives  from  their  belief  that 
she  knows  resources  and  behaviors  not  known  to 
them ;  but  when  these  have  mastered  her  secret, 
they  learn  to  confront  her,  and  recover  their  self- 
possession. 

Every  day  bears  witness  to  their  gentle  rule. 
People  who  would'  obtrude,  now  do  not  obtrude. 
The  mediocre  circle  learns  to  demand  that  which 
belongs  to  a  high  state  of  nature  or  of  culture. 
Your  manners  are  always  under  examination,  and 
by  committees  little  suspected,  —  a  police  in  citi 
zens'  clothes,  —  but  are  awarding  or  denying  you 
very  high  prizes  when  you  least  think  of  it. 

We  talk  much  of  utilities,  —  but  'tis  our  manners 
that  associate  us.  In  hours  of  business,  we  go  to 
him  who  knows,  or  has,  or  does  this  or  that  which 
we  want,  and  we  do  not  let  our  taste  or  feeling 
stand  in  the  way.  But  this  activity  over,  we  re 
turn  to  the  indolent  state,  and  wish  for  those  we 
can  be  at  ease  with  ;  those  who  will  go  where  we 
go,  whose  manners  do  not  offend  us,  whose  social 
tone  chimes  with  ours.  When  we  reflect  on  their 
persuasive  and  cheering  force ;  how  they  recom 
mend,  prepare,  and  draw  people  together ;  how,  in 
all  clubs,  manners  make  the  members  ;  how  man 
ners  make  the  fortune  of  the  ambitious  youth  ;  that, 
for  the  most  part,  his  manners  marry  him,  and,  for 
the  most  part,  he  marries  manners ;  when  we  think 


150  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

what  keys  they  are,  and  to  what  secrets ;  what  high 
lessons  and  inspiring  tokens  of  character  they  con 
vey  ;  and  what  divination  is  required  in  us,  for  the 
reading  of  this  fine  telegraph,  we  see  what  range 
the  subject  has,  and  what  relations  to  convenience, 
power,  and  beauty. 

Their  first  service  is  very  low,  —  when  they  are 
the  minor  morals  :  but  'tis  the  beginning  of  civility, 
—  to  make  us,  I  mean,  endurable  to  each  other. 
We  prize  them  for  their  rough-plastic,  abstergent 
force  ;  to  get  people  out  of  the  quadruped  state ;  to 
get  them  washed,  clothed,  and  set  up  on  end  ;  to 
slough  their  animal  husks  and  habits  ;  compel  them 
to  be  clean  ;  overawe  their  spite  and  meanness, 
teach  them  to  stifle  the  base,  and  choose  the  gen 
erous  expression,  and  make  them  know  how  much 
happier  the  generous  behaviors  are. 

Bad  behavior  the  laws  cannot  reach.  Society  is 
infested  with  rude,  cynical,  restless,  and  frivolous 
persons  who  prey  upon  the  rest,  and  whom,  a  pub 
lic  opinion  concentrated  into  good  manners,  forms 
accepted  by  the  sense  of  all,  can  reach  :  —  the  con 
tradictors  and  railers  at  public  and  private  tables, 
who  are  like  terriers,  who  conceive  it  the  duty  of  a 
dog  of  honor  to  growl  at  any  passer-by,  and  do  the 
honors  of  the  house  by  barking  him  out  of  sight :  — 
I  have  seen  men  who  neigh  like  a  horse  when  you 
contradict  them,  or  say  something  which  they  do 
not  understand :  —  then  the  overbold,  who  make 


BEHAVIOR.  151 

their  own  invitation  to  your  hearth ;  the  persever 
ing  talker,  who  gives  you  his  society  in  large,  satu 
rating  doses  ;  the  pitiers  of  themselves,  —  a  perilous 
class ;  the  frivolous  Asmodeus,  who  relies  on  you  to 
find  him  in  ropes  of  sand  to  twist ;  the  monotones  ; 
in  short,  every  stripe  of  absurdity ;  —  these  are 
social  inflictions  which  the  magistrate  cannot  cure 
or  defend  you  from,  and  which  must  be  intrusted 
to  the  restraining  force  of  custom,  and  proverbs, 
and  familiar  rules  of  behavior  impressed  on  young 
people  in  their  school-days. 

In  the  hotels  on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi, 
they  print,  or  used  to  print,  among  the  rules  of  the 
house,  that  "  no  gentleman  can  be  permitted  to 
come  to  the  public  table  without  his  coat ;  "  and 
in  the  same  country,  in  the  pews  of  the  churches, 
little  placards  plead  with  the  worshipper  against  the 
fury  of  expectoration.  Charles  Dickens  self-sacri- 
ficingly  undertook  the  reformation  of  our  American 
manners  in  unspeakable  particulars.  I  think  the 
lesson  was  not  quite  lost ;  that  it  held  bad  man 
ners  up,  so  that  the  churls  could  see  the  deformity. 
Unhappily,  the  book  had  its  own  deformities.  It 
ought  not  to  need  to  print  in  a  reading-room  a  cau 
tion  to  strangers  not  to  speak  loud ;  nor  to  persons 
who  look  over  fine  engravings,  that  they  should  be 
handled  like  cobwebs  and  butterflies'  wings  ;  nor 
to  persons  who  look  at  marble  statues,  that  they 
shall  not  smite  them  with  canes.  But,  even  in  the 


152  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

perfect  civilization  of  this  city,  such  cautions  are 
not  quite  needless  in  the  Athenaeum  and  City 
Library. 

Manners  are  factitious,  and  grow  out  of  circum 
stance  as  well  as  out  of  character.  If  you  look  at 
the  pictures  of  patricians  and  of  peasants,  of  differ 
ent  periods  and  countries,  you  will  see  how  well 
they  match  the  same  classes  in  our  towns.  The 
modern  aristocrat  not  only  is  well  drawn  in  Titian's 
Venetian  doges,  and  in  Roman  coins  and  statues, 
but  also  in  the  pictures  which  Commodore  Perry 
brought  home  of  dignitaries  in  Japan.  Broad  lands 
and  great  interests  not  only  arrive  to  such  heads  as 
can  manage  them,  but  form  manners  of  power.  A 
keen  eye,  too,  will  see  nice  gradations  of  rank,  or 
see  in  the  manners  the  degree  of  homage  the  party 
is  wont  to  receive.  A  prince  who  is  accustomed 
every  day  to  be  courted  and  deferred  to  by  the 
highest  grandees,  acquires  a  corresponding  expec 
tation,  and  a  becoming  mode  of  receiving  and 
replying  to  this  homage. 

There  are  always  exceptional  people  and  modes. 
English  grandees  affect  to  be  farmers.  Claverhouse 
is  a  fop,  and,  under  the  finish  of  dress,  and  levity  of 
behavior,  hides  the  terror  of  his  war.  But  Nature 
and  Destiny  are  honest,  and  never  fail  to  leave  their 
mark,  to  hang  out  a  sign  for  each  and  for  every 
quality.  It  is  much  to  conquer  one's  face,  and 
perhaps  the  ambitious  youth  thinks  he  has  got  the 


BEHAVIOR.  153 

whole  secret  when  he  has  learned,  that  disengaged 
manners  are  commanding.  Don't  be  deceived  by 
a  facile  exterior.  Tender  men  sometimes  have 
strong  wills.  We  had,  in  Massachusetts,  an  old 
statesman,  who  had  sat  all  his  life  in  courts  and 
in  chairs  of  state,  without  overcoming  an  extreme 
irritability  of  face,  voice,  and  bearing :  when  he 
spoke,  his  voice  would  not  serve  him ;  it  Bracked, 
it  broke,  it  wheezed,  it  piped  ;  —  little  cared  he  ;  he 
knew  that  it  had  got  to  pipe,  or  wheeze,  or  screech 
his  argument  and  his  indignation.  When  he  sat 
down,  after  speaking,  he  seemed  in  a  sort  of  fit,  and 
held  on  to  his  chair  with  both  hands  :  but  under 
neath  all  this  irritability,  was  a  puissant  will,  firm, 
and  advancing,  and  a  memory  in  which  lay  in  order 
and  method  like  geologic  strata  every  fact  of  his 
history,  and  under  the  control  of  his  will. 

Manners  are  partly  factitious,  but,  mainly,  there 
must  be  capacity  for  culture  in  the  blood.  Else  all 
culture  is  vain.  The  obstinate  prejudice  in  favor 
of  blood,  which  lies  at  the  base  of  the  feudal  and 
monarchical  fabrics  of  the  old  world,  has  some  rea 
son  in  common  experience.  Every  man,  —  mathe 
matician,  artist,  soldier,  or  merchant,  —  looks  with 
confidence  for  some  traits  and  talents  in  his  own 
child,  which  he  would  not  dare  to  presume  in  the 
child  of  a  stranger.  The  Orientalists  are  very  or 
thodox  on  this  point.  "  Take  a  thorn-bush,"  said 
the  emir  Abdel-Kader,  "  and  sprinkle  it  for  a  whole 

7* 


154  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

year  with  water  ; — it  will  yield  nothing  but  thorns. 
Take  a  date-tree,  leave  it  without  culture,  and  it 
will  always  produce  dates.  Nobility  is  the  date- 
tree,  and  the  Arab  populace  is  a  bush  of  thorns." 

A  main  fact  in  the  history  of  manners  is  the 
wonderful  expressiveness  of  the  human  body.  If  it 
were  made  of  glass,  or  of  air,  and  the  thoughts 
were  written  on  steel  tablets  within,  it  could  not 
publish  more  truly  its  meaning  than  now.  Wise 
men  reaH  very  sharply  all  your  private  history 
in  your  look  and  gait  and  behavior.  The  whole 
economy  of  nature  is  bent  on  expression.  The 
tell-tale  body  is  all  tongues.  Men  are  like  Ge 
neva  watches  with  crystal  faces  which  expose  the 
whole  movement.  They  carry  the  liquor  of  life 
flowing  up  and  down  in  these  beautiful  bottles,  and 
announcing  to  the  curious  how  it  is  with  them. 
The  face  and  eyes  reveal  what  the  spirit  is  doing, 
how  old  it  is,  what  aims  it  has.  The  eyes  indicate 
the  antiquity  of  the  soul,  or,  through  how  many 
forms  it  has  already  ascended.  It  almost  violates 
the  proprieties,  if  we  say  above  the  breath  here, 
what  the  confessing  eyes  do  not  hesitate  to  utter 
to  every  street  passenger. 

Man  cannot  fix  his  eye  on  the  sun,  and  so  far 
seems  imperfect.  In  Siberia,  a  late  traveller  found 
men  who  could  see  the  satellites  of  Jupiter  with 
their  unarmed  eye.  In  some  respects  the  animals 
excel  us.  The  birds  have  a  longer  sight,  beside  the 


BEHAVIOR.  155 

advantage  by  their  wings  of  a  higher  observatory. 
A  cow  can  bid  her  calf,  by  secret  signal,  prob 
ably  of  the  eye,  to  run  away,  or  to  lie  down  and 
hide  itself.  The  jockeys  say  of  certain  horses,  that 
"  they  look  over  the  whole  ground."  The  out 
door  life,  and  hunting,  and  labor,  give  equal  vigor 
to  the  human  eye.  A  farmer  looks  out  at  you  as 
strong  as  the  horse ;  his  eye-beam  is  like  the  stroke 
of  a  staff.  An  eye  can  threaten  like  a  loaded  and 
levelled  gun,  or  can  insult  like  hissing  or*  kicking ; 
or,  in  its  altered  mood,  by  beams  of  kindness,  it  can 
make  the  heart  dance  with  joy. 

The  eye  obeys  exactly  the  action  of  the  mind. 
When  a  thought  strikes  us,  the  eyes  fix,  and  re 
main  gazing  at  a  distance ;  in  enumerating  the 
names  of  persons  or  of  countries,  as  France,  Ger 
many,  Spain,  Turkey,  the  eyes  wink  at  each  new 
name.  There  is  no  nicety  of  learning  sought  by 
the  mind,  which  the  eyes  do  not  vie  in  acquiring. 
"  An  artist,"  said  Michel  Angelo,  "  must  have  his 
measuring  tools  not  in  the  hand,  but  in  the  eye  ;  " 
and  there  is  no  end  to  the  catalogue  of  its  perform 
ances,  whether  in  indolent  vision,  (that  of  health 
and  beauty,)  or  in  strained  vision,  (that  of  art  and 
labor.) 

Eyes  are  bold  as  lions,  —  roving,  running,  leap 
ing,  here  and  there,  far  and  near.  They  speak  all 
languages.  They  wait  for  no  introduction  ;  they 
are  no  Englishmen  ;  ask  no  leave  of  age,  or  rank ; 


156  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

they  respect  neither  poverty  nor  riches,  neither 
learning  nor  power,  nor  virtue,  nor  sex,  but  in 
trude,  and  come  again,  and  go  through  and  through 
you,  in  a  moment  of  time.  What  inundation  of 
life  and  thought  is  discharged  from  one  soul  into 
another,  through  them  !  The  glance  is  natural 
magic.  The  mysterious  communication  established 
across  a  house  between  two  entire  strangers,  moves 
all  the  springs  of  wonder.  The  communication  by 
the  glance  is  in  the  greatest  part  not  subject  to"  the 
control  of  the  will.  It  is  the  bodily  symbol  of  iden 
tity  of  nature.  We  look  into  the  eyes  to  know  if 
this  other  form  is  another  self,  and  the  eyes  will 
not  lie,  but  make  a  faithful  confession  what  inhab 
itant  is  there.  The  revelations  are  sometimes  ter 
rific.  The  confession  of  a  low,  usurping  devil  is 
there  made,  and  the  observer  shall  seem  to  feel  the 
stirring  of  owls,  and  bats,  and  horned  hoofs,  where 
he  looked  for  innocence  and  simplicity.  'Tis  re 
markable,  too,  that  the  spirit  that  appears  at  the 
windows  of  the  house  does  at  once  invest  himself  in 
a  new  form  of  his  own,  to  the  mind  of  the  beholder. 
The  eyes  of  men  converse  as  much  as  their 
tongues,  with  the  advantage,  that  the  ocular  dia 
lect  needs  no  dictionary,  but  is  understood  all  the 
world  over.  When  the  eyes  say  one  thing,  and  the 
tongue  another,  a  practised  man  relies  on  the  lan 
guage  of  the  first.  If  the  man  is  off  his  centre, 
the  eyes  show  it.  You  can  read  in  the  eyes  of 


BEHAVIOR.  157 

your  companion,  whether  your  argument  hits  him, 
though  his  tongue  will  not  confess  it.  There  is  a 
look  by  which  a  man  shows  he  is  going  to  say  a 
good  thing,  and  a  look  when  he  has  said  it.  Vain 
and  forgotten  are  all  the  fine  offers  and  offices 
of  hospitality,  if  there  is  no  holiday  in  the  eye. 
How  many  furtive  inclinations  avowed  by  the  eye, 
though  dissembled  by  the  lips  I  One  comes  away 
from  a  company,  in  which,  it  may  easily  happen, 
he  has  said  nothing,  and  no  important  remark  has 
been  addressed  to  him,  and  yet,  if  in  sympathy 
with  the  society,  he  shall  not  have  a  sense  of  this 
fact,  such  a  stream  of  life  has  been  flowing  into 
him,  and  out  from  him,  through  the  eyes.  There 
are  eyes,  to  be  sure,  that  give  no  more  admission 
into  the  man  than  blueberries.  Others  are  liquid 
and  deep,  —  wells  that  a  man  might  fall  into  ;  — 
others  are  aggressive  and  devouring,  seem  to  call 
out  the  police,  take  all  too  much  notice,  and  require 
crowded  Broadways,  and  the  security  of  millions, 
to  protect  individuals  against  them.  The  military 
eye  I  meet,  now  darkly  sparkling  under  clerical, 
now  under  rustic  brows.  'Tis  the  city  of  Lace- 
daemon  ;  'tis  a  stack  of  bayonets.  There  are  asking 
eyes,  asserting  eyes,  prowling  eyes  ;  and  eyes  full 
of  fate,  —  some  of  good,  and  some  of  sinister  omen. 
The  alleged  power  to  charm  down  insanity,  or 
ferocity  in  beasts,  is  a  power  behind  the  eye.  It 
must  be  a  victory  achieved  in  the  will,  before  it 


158  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

can  be  signified  in  the  eye.  'Tis  very  certain  that 
each  man  carries  in  his  eye  the  exact  indication  of 
his  rank  in  the  immense  scale  of  men,  and  we  are 
always  learning  to  read  it.  A  complete  man  should 
need  no  auxiliaries  to  his  personal  presence.  Who 
ever  looked  on  him  would  consent  to  his  will,  being 
certified  that  his  aims  were  generous  and  universal. 
The  reason  why  men  do  not  obey  us,  is  because 
they  see  the  mud  at  the  bottom  of  our  eye. 

If  the  organ  of  sight  is  such  a  vehicle  of  power, 
the  other  features  have  their  own.  A  man  finds 
room  in  the  few  square  inches  of  the  face  for  the 
traits  of  all  his  ancestors  ;  for  the  expression  of 
all  his  history,  and  his  wants.  The  sculptor,  and 
Winckehnann,  and  Lavater,  will  tell  you  how  sig 
nificant  a  feature  is  the  nose  ;  how  its  forms  express 
strength  or  weakness  of  will,  and  good  or  bad  tem 
per.  The  nose  of  Julius  Caesar,  of  Dante,  and  of 
Pitt,  suggest  "  the  terrors  of  the  beak."  What 
refinement,  and  what  limitations,  the  teeth  betray  ! 
"  Beware  you  don't  laugh,"  said  the  wise  mother, 
"  for  then  you  show  all  your  faults." 

Balzac  left  in  manuscript  a  chapter,  which  he 
called  "  Theorie  de  la  demarche,"  in  which  he 
says  :  "  The  look,  the  voice,  the  respiration,  and  the 
attitude  or  walk,  are  identical.  But,  as  it  has  not 
been  given  to  man,  the  power  to  stand  guard,  at 
once,  over  these  four  different  simultaneous  expres 
sions  of  his  thought,  watch  that  one  which  speaks 


BEHAVIOR.  159 

out  the  truth,  and  you  will  know  the  whole 
man." 

Palaces  interest  us  mainly  in  the  exhibition  of 
manners,  which,  in  the  idle  and  expensive  society 
dwelling  in  them,  are  raised  to  a  high  art.  The 
maxim  of  courts  is,  that  manner  is  power.  A  calm 
and  resolute  bearing,  a  polished  speech,  an  embel 
lishment  of  trifles,  and  the  art  of  hiding  all  uncom 
fortable  feeling,  are  essential  to  the  courtier :  and 
Saint  Simon,  and  Cardinal  de  Retz,  and  Roederer, 
and  an  encyclopedia  of  Memoires,  will  instruct  you, 
if  you  wish,  in  those  potent  secrets.  Thus,  it  is  a 
point  of  pride  with  kings,  to  remember  faces  and 
names.  It  is  reported  of  one  prince,  that  his  head 
had  the  air  of  leaning  downwards,  in  order  not  to 
humble  the  crowd.  There  are  people  who  come  in 
ever  like  a  child  with  a  piece  of  good  news.  It 
was  said  of  the  late  Lord  Holland,  that  he  always 
came  down  to  breakfast  with  the  air  of  a  man  who 
had  just  met  with  some  signal  good-fortune.  In 
" Notre  Dame"  the  grandee  took  his  place  on  the 
dais,  with  the  look  of  one  who  is  thinking  of  some 
thing  else.  But  we  must  not  peep  and  eavesdrop 
at  palace-doors. 

Fine  manners  need  the  support  of  fine  manners 
in  others.  A  scholar  may  be  a  well-bred  man,  or 
he  may  not.  The  enthusiast  is  introduced  to  pol 
ished  scholars  in  society,  and  is  chilled  and  silenced 
by  finding  himself  not  in  their  element.  They  all 


160  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

have  somewhat  which  he  has  not,  and,  it  seems, 
ought  to  have.  But  if  he  finds  the  scholar  apart 
from  his  companions,  it  is  then  the  enthusiast's 
turn,  and  the  scholar  has  no  defence,  hut  must  deal 
on  his  terms.  Now  they  must  fight  the  battle  out 
on  their  private  strengths.  What  is  the  talent 
of  that  character  so  common,  —  the  successful  man 
of  the  world,  —  in  all  marts,  senates,  and  drawing- 
rooms  ?  Manners  :  manners  of  power ;  sense  to 
see  his  advantage,  and  manners  up  to  it.  See  him 
approach  his  man.  He  knows  that  troops  behave 
as  they  are  handled  at  first ;  —  that  is  his  cheap 
secret ;  just  what  happens  to  every  two  persons  who 
meet  on  any  affair,  —  one  instantly  perceives  that 
he  has  the  key  of  the  situation,  that  his  will  com 
prehends  the  other's  will,  as  the  cat  does  the  mouse ; 
and  he  has  only  to  use  courtesy,  and  furnish  good- 
natured  reasons  to  his  victim  to  cover  up  the  chain, 
lest  he  be  shamed  into  resistance. 

The  theatre  in  which  this  science  of  manners 
has  a  formal  importance  is  not  with  us  a  court,  but 
dress-circles,  wherein,  after  the  close  of  the  day's 
business,  men  and  women  meet  at  leisure,  for  mu 
tual  entertainment,  in  ornamented  drawing-rooms. 
Of  course,  it  has  every  variety  of  attraction  and 
merit ;  but,  to  earnest  persons,  to  youths  or  maidens 
who  have  great  objects  at  heart,  we  cannot  extol  it 
highly.  A  well-dressed,  talkative  company,  where 
each  is  bent  to  amuse  the  other,  —  yet  the  high-born 


BEHAVIOR.  161 

Turk  who  came  hither  fancied  that  every  woman 
seemed  to  be  suffering  for  a  chair ;  that  all  the 
talkers  were  brained  and  exhausted  by  the  deoxy- 
genated  air  :  it  spoiled  the  best  persons  :  it  put 
all  on  stilts.  Yet  here  are  the  secret  biographies 
written  and  read.  The  aspect  of  that  man  is  repul 
sive  ;  I  do  not  wish  to  deal  with  him.  The  other 
is  irritable,  shy,  and  on  his  guard.  The  youth 
looks  humble  and  manly  :  I  choose  him.  Look  on 
this  woman.  There  is  not  beauty,  nor  brilliant 
sayings,  nor  distinguished  power  to  serve  you ;  but 
all  see  her  gladly;  her  whole  air  and  impression 
are  healthful.  Here  come  the  sentimentalists,  and 
the  invalids.  Here  is  Elise,  who  caught  cold  in 
coming  into  the  world,  and  has  always  increased  it 
since.  Here  are  creep-mouse  manners ;  and  thiev 
ish  manners.  "  Look  at  Northcote,"  said  Fuseli  ; 
"  he  looks  like  a  rat  that  has  seen  a  cat."  In  the 
shallow  company,  easily  excited,  easily  tired,  here 
is  the  columnar  Bernard  :  the  Alleghanies  do  not 
express  more  repose  than  his  behavior.  Here  are 
the  sweet  following  eyes  of  Cecile  :  it  seemed  al 
ways  that  she  demanded  the  heart.  Nothing  can 
be  more  excellent  in  kind  than  the  Corinthian  grace 
of  Gertrude's  manners,  and  yet  Blanche,  who  has 
no  manners,  has  better  manners  than  she  ;  for  the 
movements  of  Blanche  are  the  sallies  of  a  spirit 
which  is  sufficient  for  the  moment,  and  she  can 
afford  to  express  every  thought  by  instant  action. 


162  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

Manners  have  been  somewhat  cynically  defined 
to  be  a  contrivance  of  wise  men  to  keep  fools  at  a 
distance.  Fashion  is  shrewd  to  detect  those  who 
do  not  belong  to  her  train,  and  seldom  wastes  her 
attentions.  Society  is  very  swift  in  its  instincts, 
and,  if  you  do  not  belong  to  it,  resists  and  sneers  at 
you ;  or  quietly  drops  you.  The  first  weapon  en 
rages  the  party  attacked ;  the  second  is  still  more 
effective,  but  is  not  to  be  resisted,  as  the  date  of  the 
transaction  is  not  easily  found.  People  grow  up 
and  grow  old  under  this  infliction,  and  never  sus 
pect  the  truth,  ascribing  the  solitude  which  acts  on 
them  very  injuriously,  to  any  cause  but  the  right 
one. 

The  basis  of  good  manners  is  self-reliance.  Ne 
cessity  is  the  law  of  all  who  are  not  self-possessed. 
Those  who  are  not  self-possessed,  obtrude,  and  pain 
us.  Some  men  appear  to  feel  that  they  belong  to  a 
Pariah  caste.  They  fear  to  offend,  they  bend  and 
apologize,  and  walk  through  life  with  a  timid  step. 
As  we  sometimes  dream  that  we  are  in  a  well- 
dressed  company  without  any  coat,  so  Godfrey  acts 
ever  as  if  he  suffered  from  some  mortifying  circum 
stance.  The  hero  should  find  himself  at  home, 
wherever  he  is  ;  should  impart  comfort  by  his  own 
security  and  good-nature  to  all  beholders.  The 
hero  is  suffered  to  be  himself.  A  person  of  strong 
mind  comes  to  perceive  that  for  him  an  immunity  is 
secured  so  long  as  he  renders  to  society  that  service 


BEHAVIOR.  163 

which  is  native  and  proper  to  him,  —  an  immunity 
from  all  the  observances,  yea,  and  duties,  which 
society  so  tyrannically  imposes  on  the  rank  and  file 
of  its  members.  "  Euripides,"  says  Aspasia,  "  has 
not  the  fine  manners  of  Sophocles  ;  but,"  —  she 
adds  good-humoredly,  "  the  movers  and  masters  of 
our  souls  have  surely  a  right  to  throw  out  their 
limbs  as  carelessly  as  they  please,  on  the  world  that 
belongs  to  them,  and  before  the  creatures  they  have 
animated." i 

Manners  require  time,  as  nothing  is  more  vul 
gar  than  haste.  Friendship  should  be  surrounded 
with  ceremonies  and  respects,  and  not  crushed  into 
corners.  Friendship  requires  more  time  than  poor 
busy  men  can  usually  command.  Here  comes  to 
me  Roland,  with  a  delicacy  of  sentiment  leading 
and  inwrapping  him  like  a  divine  cloud  or  holy 
ghost.  'Tis  a  great  destitution  to  both  that  this 
should  not  be  entertained  with  large  leisures, 
but  contrariwise  should  be  balked  by  importunate 
affairs.  • 

But  through  this  lustrous  varnish,  the  reality  is 
ever  shining.  'Tis  hard  to  keep  the  what  from 
breaking  through  this  pretty  painting  of  the  how. 
The  core  will  come  to  the  surface.  Strong  will 
and  keen  perception  overpower  old  manners,  and 
create  new  ;  and  the  thought  of  the  present  mo 
ment  has  a  greater  value  than  all  the  past.  In 

*  Landor:    Pericles  and  Aspasia. 


164  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

persons  of  character,  we  do  not  remark  manners, 
because  of  their  instantaneousness.  We  are  sur 
prised  by  the  thing  done,  out  of  all  power  to  watch 
the  way  of  it.  Yet  nothing  is  more  charming  than 
to  recognize  the  great  style  which  runs  through 
the  actions  of  such..  People  masquerade  before  us 
in  their  fortunes,  titles,  offices,  and  connections,  as 
academic  or  civil  presidents,  or  senators,  or  profes 
sors,  or  great  lawyers,  and  impose  on  the  frivolous, 
and  a  good  deal  on  each  other,  by  these  fames.  At 
least,  it  is  a  point  of  prudent  good  manners  to  treat 
these  reputations  tenderly,  as  if  they  were  merited. 
But  the  sad  realist  knows  these  fellows  at  a  glance, 
and  they  know  him ;  as  when  in  Paris  the  chief 
of  the  police  enters  a  ballroom,  so  many  diamonded 
pretenders  shrink  and  make  themselves  as  incon 
spicuous  as  they  can,  or  give  him  a  supplicating 
look  as  they  pass.  "  I  had  received,"  said  a  sibyl, 
"  I  had  received  at  birth  the  fatal  gift  of  penetra 
tion  :" —  and  these  Cassandras  are  always  born. 

Manners  impresses  they  indicate  real  power.  A 
man  who  is  sure  of  his  point,  carries  a  broad  and 
contented  expression,  which  everybody  reads.  And 
you  cannot  rightly  train  one  to  an  air  and  manner, 
except  by  making  him  the  kind  of  man  of  whom 
that  manner  is  the  natural  expression.  Nature  for 
ever  puts  a  premium  on  reality.  What  is  done  for 
effect,  is  seen  to  be  done  for  effect ;  what  is  done 
for  love,  is  felt  to  be  done  for  love.  A  man  inspires 


BEHAVIOR.  165 

affection  and  honor,  because  he  was  not  lying  in 
wait  for  these.  The  things  of  a  man  for  which  we 
visit  him,  were  done  in  the  dark  and  the  cold.  A 
little  integrity  is  better  than  any  career.  So  deep 
are  the  sources  of  this  surface-action,  that  even  the 
size  of  your  companion  seems  to  vary  with  his  free 
dom  of.  thought.  Not  only  is  he  larger,  when  at 
ease,  and  his  thoughts  generous,  but  everything 
around  him  becomes  variable  with  expression.  No 
carpenter's  rule,  no  rod  and  chain,  will  measure  the 
dimensions  of  any  house  or  house-lot :  go  into  the 
house  :  if  the  proprietor  is  constrained  and  defer 
ring,  'tis  of  no  importance  how  large  his  house,  how 
beautiful  his  grounds,  —  you  quickly  come  to  the 
end  of  all :  but  if  the  man  is  self-possessed,  happy, 
and  at  home,  his  house  is  deep-founded,  indefinitely 
large  and  interesting,  the  roof  and  dome  buoyant 
as  the  sky.  Under  the  humblest  roof,  the  common 
est  person  in  plain  clothes  sits  there  massive,  cheer 
ful,  yet  formidable  like  the  Egyptian  colossi. 

Neither  Aristotle,  nor  Leibnitz,  nor  Junius,  nor 
Champollion  has  set  down  the  grammar-rules  of 
this  dialect,  older  than  Sanscrit ;  but  they  who  can 
not  yet  read  English,  can  read  this.  Men  take  each 
other's  measure,  when  they  meet  for  the  first  time, 
—  and  every  time  they  meet.  How  do  they  get 
this  rapid  knowledge,  even  before  they  speak,  of 
each  other's  power  and  dispositions  ?  One  would 
say,  that  the  persuasion  of  their  speech  is  not  in 


166  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

what  they  say,  —  or,  that  men  do  not  convince  by 
their  argument,  —  but  by  their  personality,  by  who 
they  are,  and  what  they  said  and  did  heretofore. 
A  man  already  strong  is  listened  to,  and  everything 
he  says  is  applauded.  Another  opposes  him  with 
sound  argument,  but  the  argument  is  scouted,  until 
by  and  by  it  gets  into  the  mind  of  some  weighty 
person  ;  then  it  begins  to  tell  on  the  community. 

Self-reliance  is  the  basis  of  behavior,  as  it  is  the 
guaranty  that  the  powers  are  not  squandered  in 
too  much  demonstration.  In  this  country,  where 
school  education  is  universal,  we  have  a  superficial 
culture,  and  a  profusion  of  reading  and  writing  and 
expression.  We  parade  our  nobilities  in  poems  and 
orations,  instead  of  working  them  up  into  happiness. 
There  is  a  whisper  out  of  the  ages  to  him  who  can 
understand  it,  —  '  whatever  is  known  to  thyself 
alone,  has  always  very  great  value.'  There  is  some 
reason  to  believe,  that,  when  a  man  does  not  write 
his  poetry,  it  escapes  by  other  vents  through  him, 
instead  of  the  one  vent  of  writing;  clings  to  his 
form  and  manners,  whilst  poets  have  often  noth 
ing  poetical  about  them  except  their  verses.  Jacobi 
said,  that  "  when  a  man  has  fully  expressed  his 
thought,  he  has  somewhat  less  possession  of  it." 
One  would  say,  the  rule  is,  —  What  a  man  is  irre 
sistibly  urged  to  say,  helps  him  and  us.  In  explain 
ing  his  thought  to  others,  he  explains  it  to  himself: 
but  when  he  opens  it  for  show,  it  corrupts  him. 


BEHAVIOR.  1 G7 

Society  is  the  stage  on  which  manners  are 
shown ;  novels  are  their  literature.  Novels  are 
the  journal  or  record  of  manners  ;  and  the  new  im 
portance  of  these  books  derives  from  the  fact,  that 
the  novelist  begins  to  penetrate  the  surface,  and 
treat  this  part  of  life  more  worthily.  The  novels 
used  to  be  all  alike,  and  had  a  quite  vulgar  tone. 
The  novels  used  to  lead  us  on  to  a  foolish  interest 
in  the  fortunes  of  the  boy  and  girl  they  described. 
The  boy  was  to  be  raised  from  a  humble  to  a  high 
position.  He  was  in  want  of  a  wife  and  a  castle, 
and  the  object  of  the  story  was  to  supply  him  with 
one  or  both.  We  watched  sympathetically,  step  by 
step,  his  climbing,  until,  at  last,  the  point  is  gained, 
the  wedding  day  is  fixed,  and  we  follow  the  gala 
procession  home  to  the  castle,  when  the  doors  are 
slammed  in  our  face,  and  the  poor  reader  is  left 
outside  in  the  cold,  not  enriched  by  so  much  as  an 
idea,  or  a  virtuous  impulse. 

But  the  victories  of  character  are  instant,  and 
victories  for  all.  Its  greatness  enlarges  all.  We 
are  fortified  by  every  heroic  anecdote.  The  novels 
are  as  useful  as  Bibles,  if  they  teach  you  the  secret, 
that  the  best  of  life  is  conversation,  and  the  great 
est  success  is  confidence,  or  perfect  understanding 
between  sincere  people.  'Tis  a  French  definition 
of  friendship,  rien  que  s1  entendre,  good  understand 
ing.  The  highest  compact  we  can  make  with  our 
fellow,  is,  — '  Let  there  be  truth  between  us  two 


168  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

forevermore.'  That  is  the  charm  in  all  good  nov 
els,  as  it  is  the  charm  in  all  good  histories,  that  the 
heroes  mutually  understand,  from  the  first,  and  deal 
loyally,  and  with  a  profound  trust  in  each  other. 
It  is  sublime  to  feel  and  say  of  another,  I  need 
never  meet,  or  speak,  or  write  to  him  :  we  need 
not  reinforce  ourselves,  or  send  tokens  of  remem 
brance  :  I  rely  on  him  as  on  myself :  if  he  did 
thus  or  thus,  I  know  it  was  right. 

In  all  the  superior  people  I  have  met,  I  notice 
directness,  truth  spoken  more  truly,  as  if  everything 
of  obstruction,  of  malformation,  had  been  trained 
away.  What  have  they  to  conceal  ?  What  have 
they  to  exhibit  ?  Between  simple  and  noble  per 
sons,  there  is  always  a  quick  intelligence :  they 
recognize  at  sight,  and  meet  on  a  better  ground 
than  the  talents  and  skills  they  may  chance  to 
possess,  namely,  on  sincerity  and  uprightness.  For, 
it  is  not  what  talents  or  genius  a  man  has,  but 
how  he  is  to  his  talents,  that  constitutes  friendship 
and  character.  The  man  that  stands  by  himself, 
the  universe  stands  by  him  also.  It  is  related 
of  the  monk  Basle,  that,  being  excommunicated  by 
the  Pope,  he  was,  at  his  death,  sent  in  charge  of  an 
angel  to  find  a  fit  place  of  suffering  in  hell ;  but, 
such  was  the  eloquence  and  good-humor  of  the 
monk,  that,  wherever  he  went  he  was  received 
gladly,  and  civilly  treated,  even  by  the  most  un 
civil  angels :  and,  when  he  came  to  discourse  with 


BEHAVIOR.  169 

them,  instead  of  contradicting  or  forcing  him,  they 
took  his  part,  and  adopted  his  manners  :  and  even 
good  angels  came  from  far,  to  see  him,  and  take  up 
their  abode  with  him.  The  angel  that  was  sent 
to  find  a  place  of  torment  for  him,  attempted  to 
remove  him  to  a  worse  pit,xbut  with  no  better  suc 
cess  ;  for  such  was  the  contented  spirit  of  the  monk, 
that  he  found  something  to  praise  in  every  place 
and  company,  though  in  hell,  and  made  a  kind  of 
heaven  of  it.  At  last  the  escorting  angel  returned 
with  his  prisoner  to  them  that  sent  him,  saying, 
that  no  phlegethon  could  be  found  that  would  burn 
him  ;  for  that,  in  whatever  condition,  Basle  re 
mained  incorrigibly  Basle.  The  legend  says,  his 
sentence  was  remitted,  and  he  was  allowed  to  go 
into  heaven,  and  was  canonized  as  a  saint. 

There  is  a  stroke  of  magnanimity  in  the  corre 
spondence  of  Bonaparte  with  his  brother  Joseph, 
when  the  latter  was  King  of  Spain,  and  complained 
that  he  missed  in  Napoleon's  letters  the  affectionate 
tone  which  had  marked  their  childish  correspond 
ence.  "  I  am  sorry,"  replies  Napoleon,  "  you 
think  you  shall  find  your  brother  again  only  in  the 
Elysian  Fields.  It  is  natural,  that  at  forty,  he  should 
not  feel  towards  you  as  he  did  at  twelve.  But  his 
feelings  towards  you  have  greater  truth  and  strength. 
His  friendship  has  the  features  of  his  mind." 

How  much  we  forgive  to  those  who  yield  us  the 
rare  spectacle  of  heroic  manners  !  We  will  pardon 


170  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

them  the  want  of  books,  of  arts,  and  even  of  the 
gentler  virtues.  How  tenaciously  we  remember 
them  !  Here  is  a  lesson  which  I  brought  along 
with  me  in  boyhood  from  the  Latin  School,  and 
which  ranks  with  the  best  of  Roman  anecdotes. 
Marcus  Scaurus  was  accused  by  Quintus  Varius 
Hispanus,  that  he  had  excited  the  allies  to  take 
arms  against  the  Republic.  But  he,  full  of  firm 
ness  and  gravity,  defended  himself  in  this  manner : 
"  Quintus  Varius  Hispanus  alleges  that  Marcus 
Scaurus,  President  of  the  Senate,  excited  the  allies 
to  arms  :  Marcus  Scaurus,  President  of  the  Senate, 
denies  it.  There  is  no  witness.  Which  do  you 
believe,  Romans  ?  "  "  Utri  creditis,  Quirites  ?  " 
When  he  had  said  these  words,  he  was  absolved 
by  the  assembly  of  the  people. 

I  have  seen  manners  that  make  a  similar  impres 
sion  with  personal  beauty ;  that  give  the  like  exhil 
aration,  and  refine  us  like  that ;  and,  in  memorable 
experiences,  they  are  suddenly  better  than  beauty, 
and  make  that  superfluous  and  ugly.  But  they 
must  be  marked  by  fine  perception,  the  acquaint 
ance  with  real  beauty.  They  must  always  show 
self-control :  you  shall  not  be  facile,  apologetic,  or 
leaky,  but  king  over  your  word  ;  and  every  gesture 
and  action  shall  indicate  power  at  rest.  Then  they 
must  be  inspired  by  the  good  heart.  There  is  no 
beautifier  of  complexion,  or  form,  or  behavior,  like 
the  wish  to  scatter  joy  and  not  pain  around  us. 


BEHAVIOR.  171 

Tis  good  to  give  a  stranger  a  meal,  or  a  night's 
lodging.  'Tis  better  to  be  hospitable  to  his  good 
meaning  and  thought,  and  give  courage  to  a  com 
panion.  We  must  be  as  courteous  to  a  man  as  we 
are  to  a  picture,  which  we  are  willing  to  give  the 
advantage  of  a  good  light.  ,  Special  precepts  are  not 
to  be  thought  of:  the  talent  of  well-doing  contains 
them  all.  Every  hour  will  show  a  duty  as  para 
mount  as  that  of  my  whim  just  now  ;  and  yet  I 
will  write  it,  —  that  there  is  one  topic  peremp 
torily  forbidden  to  all  well-bred,  to  all  rational 
mortals,  namely,  their  distempers.  If  you  have 
not  slept,  or  if  you  have  slept,  or  if  you  have  head 
ache,  or  sciatica,  or  leprosy,  or  thunder-stroke,  I 
beseech  you,  by  all  angels,  to  hold  your  peace, 
and.  not  pollute  the  morning,  to  which  all  the 
housemates  bring  serene  and  pleasant  thoughts,  by 
corruption  and  groans.  Come  out  of  the  azure. 
Love  the  day.  Do  not  leave  the  sky  out  of  your 
landscape.  The  oldest  and  the  most  deserving 
person  should  come  very  modestly  into  any  newlv 
awaked  company,  respecting  the  divine  communica 
tions,  out  of  which  all  must  be  presumed  to  have 
newly  come.  An  old  man  who  added  an  elevating 
culture  to  a  large  experience  of  life,  said  to  me, 
"  When  you  come  into  the  room,  I  think  I  will 
study  how  to  make  humanity  beautiful  to  you." 

As  respects  the  delicate  question  of  culture,  I  do 
not  think  that  any  other  than  negative  rules  can  be 


172  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

laid  down.  For  positive  rules,  for  suggestion,  Na 
ture  alone  inspires  it.  Who  dare  assume  to  guide 
a  youth,  a  maid,  to  perfect  manners  ?  —  the  golden 
mean  is  so  delicate,  difficult,  —  say  frankly,  unat 
tainable.  What  finest  hands  would  not  be  clumsy 
to  sketch  the  genial  precepts  of  the  young  girl's 
demeanor  ?  The  chances  seem  infinite  against 
success ;  and  yet  success  is  continually  attained. 
There  must  not  be  secondariness,  and  'tis  a  thou 
sand  to  one  that  her  air  and  manner  will  at  once 
betray  that  she  is  not  primary,  but  that  there  is 
some  other  one  or  many  of  her  class,  to  whom  she 
habitually  postpones  herself.  But  Nature  lifts  her 
easily,  and  without  knowing  it,  over  these  impossi 
bilities,  and  we  are  continually  surprised  with  graces 
and  felicities  not  only  unteachable,  but  undescrib- 
able. 


VI. 

WORSHIP 


THIS  is  he,  who,  felled  by  foes, 

Sprung  harmless  up,  refreshed  by  blows : 

He  to  captivity  was  sold, 

But  him  no  prison-bars  would  hold : 

Though  they  sealed  him  in  a  rock, 

Mountain  chains  he  can  unlock: 

Thrown  to  lions  for  their  meat, 

The  crouching  lion  kissed  his  feet : 

Bound  to  the  stake,  no  flames  appalled, 

But  arched  o'er  him  an  honoring  vault. 

This  is  he  men  miscall  Fate, 

Threading  dark  ways,  arriving  late, 

But  ever  coming  in  time  to  crown 

The  truth,  and  hurl  wrongdoers  down. 

He  is  the  oldest,  and  best  known, 

More  near  than  aught  thou  call'st  thy  own, 

Yet,  greeted  in  another's  eyes, 

Disconcerts  with  glad  surprise. 

This  is  Jove,  who,  deaf  to  prayers, 

Floods  with  blessings  unawares. 

Draw,  if  thou  canst,  the  mystic  line, 

Severing  rightly  his  from  thine, 

Which  is  human,  which  divine. 


WORSHIP. 

SOME  of  my  friends  have  complained,  when  the 
preceding  papers  were  read,  that  we  discussed  Fate, 
Power,  and  Wealth,  on  too  low  a  platform  ;  gave 
too  much  line  to  the  evil  spirit  of  the  times ;  too 
many  cakes  to  Cerberus  ;  that  we  raft  Cudworth's 
risk  of  making,  by  excess  of  candor,  the  argument 
of  atheism  so  strong,  that  he  could  not  answer  it. 
I  have  no  fears  of  being  forced  in  my  own  despite 
to  play,  as  we  say,  the  devil's  attorney.  I  have  no 
infirmity  of  faith ;  no  belief  that  it  is  of  much  im 
portance  what  I  or  any  man  may  say  :  I  am  sure 
that  a  certain  truth  will  be  said  through  me,  though 
I  should  be  dumb,  or  though  I  should  try  to  say 
the  reverse.  Nor  do  I  fear  skepticism  for  any  good 
soul.  A  just  thinker  will  allow  full  swing  to  his 
skepticism.  I  dip  my  pen  in  the  blackest  ink,  be 
cause  I  am  not  afraid  of  falling  into  my  inkpot. 
I  have  no  sympathy  with  a  poor  man  I  knew,  who, 
when  suicides  abounded,  told  me  he  dared  not  look 
at  his  razor.  We  are  of  different  opinions  at  differ 
ent  hours,  but  we  always  may  be  said  to  be  at  heart 
on  the  side  of  truth. 


176  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

I  see  not  why  we  should  give  ourselves  such 
sanctified  airs.  If  the  Divine  Providence  has  hid 
from  men  neither  disease,  nor  deformity,  nor  cor 
rupt  society,  but  has  stated  itself  out  in  passions,  in 
war,  in  trade,  in  the  love  of  power  and  pleasure, 
in  hunger  and  need,  in  tyrannies,  literatures,  and 
arts,  —  let  us  not  be  so  nice  that  we  cannot  write 
these  facts  down  coarsely  as  they  stand,  or  doubt 
but  there  is  a  counter-statement  as  ponderous, 
which  we  can  arrive  at,  and  which,  being  put,  will 
make  all  square.  The  solar  system  has  no  anxiety 
about  its  reputation,  and  the  credit  of  truth  and 
honesty  is  as  safe;  nor  have  I  any  fear  that  a 
skeptical  bias  can  be  given  by  leaning  hard  on  the 
sides  of  fate,  of  practical  power,  or  of  trade,  which 
the  doctrine  of  Faith  cannot  down-weigh.  The 
strength  of  that  principle  is  not  measured  in  ounces 
and  pounds  :  it  tyrannizes  at  the  centre  of  Nature. 
We  may  well  give  skepticism  as  much ,  line  as  we 
can.  The  spirit  will  return,  and  fill  us.  It  drives 
the  drivers.  It  counterbalances  any  accumulations 
of  power. 

+          "  Heaven  kindly  gave  our  blood  a  moral  flow." 

We  are  born  loyal.  The  whole  creation  is  made 
of  hooks  and  eyes,  of  bitumen,  of  sticking-plaster, 
and  whether  your  community  is  made  in  Jerusalem 
or  in  California,  of  saints  or  of  wreckers,  it  coheres 
in  a  perfect  ball,  f  Men  as  naturally  make  a  state, 


WORSHIP.  177 

or  a  church,  as  caterpillars  a  web.)  If  they  were 
more  refined,  it  would  be  less  formal,  it  would  be 
nervous,  like  that  of  the  Shakers,  who,  from  long 
habit  of  thinking  and  feeling  together,  it  is  said,  are 
affected  in  the  same  way,  at  the  same  time,  to  work 
and  to  play,  and  as  they  go  with  perfect  sympathy 
to  their  tasks  in  the  field  or  shop,  so  are  they  in 
clined  for  a  ride  or  a  journey  at  the  same  instant, 
and  the  horses  come  up  with  the  family  carriage 
unbespoken  to  the  door. 

We  are  born  believing.  A  man  bears  beliefs,  as 
a  tree  bears  apples.  A  self-poise  belongs  to  every 
particle  ;  and  a  rectitude  to  every  mind,  and  is  the 
Nemesis  and  protector  of  every  society.  I  and  my 
neighbors  have  been  bred  in  the  notion,  that,  unless 
we  came  soon  to  some  good  church,  —  Calvinism, 
or  Behmenism,  or  Romanism,  or  Mormonism, — 
there  would  be  a  universal  thaw  and  dissolution. 
No  Isaiah  or  Jeremy  has  arrived.  Nothing  can 
exceed  the  anarchy  that  has  followed  in  our  skies. 
The  stern  old  faiths  have  all  pulverized.  Tis  a 
whole  population  of  gentlemen  and  ladies  out  in 
search  of  religions.  'Tis  as  flat  anarchy  in  our 
ecclesiastic  realms',  as  that  which  existed  in  Massa 
chusetts,  in  the  Revolution,  or  which  prevails  now 
on  the  slope  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  or  Pike's 
Peak.  Yet  we  make  shift  to  live.  Men  are  loyal. 
Nature  has  self-poise  in  all  her  works ;  certain  pro 
portions  in  which  oxygen  and  azote  combine,  and, 


178  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

not  less  a  harmony  in  faculties,  a  fitness  in  the 
spring  and  the  regulator. 

The  decline  of  the  influence  of  Calvin,  or  Fen- 
elon,  or  Wesley,  or  Channing,  need  give  us  no 
uneasiness.  The  builder  of  heaven  has  not  so  ill 
constructed  his  creature  as  that  the  religion,  that  is, 
the  public  nature,  should  fall  out :  the  public  and 
the  private  element,  like  north  and  south,  like  in 
side  and  outside,  like  centrifugal  and  centripetal, 
adhere  to  every  soul,  and  cannot  be  subdued,  except 
the  soul  is  dissipated.  God  builds  his  temple  in  the 
heart  on  the  ruins  of  churches  and  religions. 

In  the  last  chapters,  we  treated  some  particulars 
of  the  question  of  culture.  But  the  whole  state 
of  man  is  a  state  of  culture ;  and  its  flowering 
and  completion  may  be  described  as  Religion,  or 
Worship.  There  is  always  some  religion,  some 
hope  and  fear  extended  into  the  invisible,  —  from 
the  blind  boding  which  nails  a  horseshoe  to  the 
mast  or  the  threshold,  up  to  the  song  of  the  Elders 
in  the  Apocalypse.  But  the  religion  cannot  rise 
above  the  state  of  the  votary.  Heaven  always 
bears  some  proportion  to  earth.  The  god  of  the 
cannibals  will  be  a  cannibal,  of  the  crusaders  a  cru 
sader,  and  of  the  merchants  a  merchant.  In  all 
ages,  souls  out  of  time,  extraordinary,  prophetic, 
are  born,  who  are  rather  related  to  the  system  of 
the  world,  than  to  their  particular  age  and  locality. 
These  announce  absolute  truths,  which,  with  what- 


WORSHIP.  179 

ever  reverence  received,  are  speedily  dragged  down 
into  a  savage  interpretation.  The  interior  tribes 
of  our  Indians,  and  some  of  the  Pacific  islanders, 
flog  their  gods,  when  things  take  an  unfavorable 
turn.  The  Greek  poets  did  not  hesitate  to  let  loose 
their  petulant  wit  on  their  deities  also.  Laomedon, 
in  his  anger  at  Neptune  and  Apollo,  who  had  built 
Troy  for  him,  and  demanded  their  price,  does  not 
hesitate  to  menace  them  that  he, will  cut  their  ears 
off.*  Among  our  Norse  forefathers,  King  Olaf's 
mode  of  converting  Eyvind  to  Christianity  was  to 
put  a  pan  of  glowing  coals  on  his  belly,  which  burst 
asunder.  "  Wilt  thou  now,  Eyvind,  believe  in 
Christ  ?  "  asks  Olaf,  in  excellent  faith.  Another 
argument  was  an  adder  put  into  the  mouth  of  the 
reluctant  disciple  Rand,  who  refused  to  believe. 

Christianity,  in  the  romantic  ages,  signified  Euro 
pean  culture,  —  the  grafted  or  meliorated  tree  in  a 
crab  forest.  And  to  marry  a  pagan  wife  or  hus 
band,  was  to  marry  Beast,  and  voluntarily  to  take 
a  step  backwards  towards  the  baboon. 

"Hengist  had  verament 
A  daughter  both  fair  and  gent, 
But  she  was  heathen  Sarazine, 
And  Vortigern  for  love  fine 
Her  took  to  fere  and  to  wife, 
And  was  cursed  in  all  his  life; 
For  he  let  Christian  wed  heathen, 
And  mixed  our  blood  as  flesh  and  mathen."  f 

*  Iliad,  Book  xxi.  1.  455.  t  Moths  or  worms. 


180  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

What  Gothic  mixtures  the  Christian  creed  drew 
from  the  pagan  sources,  Richard  of  Devizes's  chron 
icle  of  Richard  I.'s  crusade,  in  the  twelfth  century, 
may  show.  King  Richard  taunts  God  with  for 
saking  him  :  "  O  fie  !  O  how  unwilling  should  I 
be  to  forsake  thee,  in  so  forlorn  and  dreadful  a 
position,  were  I  thy  lord  and  advocate,  as  thou  art 
mine.  In  sooth,  my  standards  will  in  future  be 
despised,  not  through  my  fault,  but  through  thine  : 
in  sooth,  not  through  any  cowardice  of  my  warfare, 
art  thou  thyself,  my  king  and  my  God  conquered, 
this  day,  and  not  Richard  thy  vassal."  The  relig 
ion  of  the  early  English  poets  is  anomalous,  so  de 
vout  and  so  blasphemous,  in  the  same  breath.  Such 
is  Chaucer's  extraordinary  confusion  of  heaven  and 
earth  in  the  picture  of  Dido. 

"  She  was  so  fair, 

So  young,  so  lusty,  with  her  eyen  glad, 
That  if  that  God  that  heaven  and  earthe  made 
Would  have  a  love  for  beauty  and  goodness, 
And  womanhede,  truth,  and  seemliness, 
Whom  should  he  loven  but  this  lady  sweet? 
There  n'  is  no  woman  to  him  half  so  meet." 

With  these  grossnesses,  we  complacently  com 
pare  our  own  taste  and  decorum.  We  think  and 
speak  with  more  temperance  and  gradation,  —  but 
is  not  indifferentism  as  bad  as  superstition  ? 

We  live  in  a  transition  period,  when  the  old 
faiths  which  comforted  nations,  and.  not  only  so, 
but  made  nations,  seem  to  have  spent  their  force. 


WOKSHIP.  181 

I  do  not  find  the  religions  of  men  at  this  moment 
very  creditable  to  them,  but  either  childish  and 
insignificant,  or  unmanly  and  effeminating.  The 
fatal  trait  is  the  divorce  between  religion  and  moral 
ity.  Here  are  know-nothing  religions,  or  churches 
that  proscribe  intellect ;  scortatory  religions  ;  slave- 
holding  and  slave-trading  religions  ;  and,  even  in 
the  decent  populations,  idolatries  wherein  the  white 
ness  of  the  ritual  covers  scarlet  indulgence.  The 
lover  of  the  old  religion  complains  that  our  contem 
poraries,  scholars  as  well  as  merchants,  succumb  to 
a  great  despair,  —  have  corrupted  into  a  timorous 
conservatism,  and  believe  in  nothing.  In  our  large 
cities,  the  population  is  godless,  materialized,  —  no 
bond,  no  fellow-feeling,  no  enthusiasm.  These  are 
not  men,  but  hungers,  thirsts,  fevers,  and  appetites 
walking.  How  is  it  people  manage  to  live  on,  — 
so  aimless  as  they  are  ?  After  their  peppercorn 
aims  are  gained,  it  seems  as  if  the  lime  in  their 
bones  alone  held  them  together,  and  not  any  worthy 
purpose.  There  is  no  faith  in  the  intellectual, 
none  in  the  moral  universe.  There  is  faith  in 
chemistry,  in  meat,  and  wine,  in  wealth,  in  machin 
ery,  in  the  steam-engine,  galvanic  battery,  turbine- 
wheels,  sewing  machines,  and  in  public  opinion,  but 
not  in  divine  causes.  A  silent  revolution  has  loosed 
the  tension  of  the  old  religious  sects,  and,  in  place 
of  the  gravity  and  permanence  of  those  societies 
of  opinion,  they  run  into  freak  and  extravagance. 


182  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

In  creeds  never  was  such  levity ;  witness  the  hea 
thenisms  in  Christianity,  the  periodic  "  revivals," 
the  Millennium  mathematics,  the  peacock  ritualism, 
the  retrogression  to  Popery,  the  maundering  of 
Mormons,  the  squalor  of  Mesmerism,  the  deliration 
of  rappings,  the  rat  and  mouse  revelation,  thumps  in 
table-drawers,  and  black  art.  The  architecture,  the 
music,  the  prayer,  partake  of  the  madness  :  the  arts 
sink  into  shift  and  make-believe.  Not  knowing 
what  to  do,  we  ape  our  ancestors;  the  churches 
stagger  backward  to  the  mummeries  of  the  dark 
ages.  By  the  irresistible  maturing  of  the  general 
mind,  the  Christian  traditions  have  lost  their  hold. 
The  dogma  of  the  mystic  offices  of  Christ  being 
dropped,  and  he  standing  on  his  genius  as  a  moral 
teacher,  'tis  impossible  to  maintain  the  old  empha 
sis  of  his  personality  ;  and  it  recedes,  as  all  per 
sons  must,  before  the  sublimity  of  the  moral  laws. 
From  this  change,  and  in  the  momentary  absence 
of  any  religious  genius  that  could  offset  the  im 
mense  material  activity,  there  is  a  feeling  that 
religion  is  gone.  When  Paul  Leroux  offered  his 
article  "  Dieu "  to  the  conductor  of  a  leading 
French  journal,  he  replied,  "  La  question  de  Dieu 
manque  d'actualite"  In  Italy,  Mr.  Gladstone 
said  of  the  late  King  of  Naples,  "  it  has  been  a 
proverb,  that  he  has  erected  the  negation  of  God 
into  a  system  of  government."  In  this  country, 
the  like  stupefaction  was  in  the  air,  and  the  phrase 


WORSHIP.  183 

"  higher  law  "  became  a  political  jibe.  What 
proof  of  infidelity,  like  the  toleration  and  propa- 
gandism  of  slavery  ?  What,  like  the  direction  of 
education  ?  What,  like  the  facility  of  conversion  ? 
What,  like  the  externality  of  churches  that  once 
^sucked  the  roots  of  right  and  wrong,  and  now  have 
perished  away  till  they  are  a  speck  of  whitewash  on 
the  wall  ?  What  proof  of  skepticism  like  the  base 
rate  at  which  the  highest  mental  and  moral  gifts  are 
held  ?  Let  a  man  attain  the  highest  and  broadest 
culture  that  any  American  has  possessed,  then  let 
him  die  by  sea-storm,  railroad  collision,  or  other 
accident,  and  all  America  will  acquiesce  that  the 
best  thing  has  happened  to  him  ;  that,  after  the 
education  has  gone  far,  such  is  the  expensiveness 
of  America,  that  the  best  use  to  put  a  fine  person 
to,  is,  to  drown  him  to  save  his  board. 

Another  scar  of  this  skepticism  is  the  distrust  in 
human  virtue.  It  is  believed  by  well-dressed  pro 
prietors  that  there  is  no  more  virtue  than  they  pos 
sess  ;  that  the  solid  portion  of  society  exist  for  the 
arts  of  comfort :  that  life  is  an  affair  to  put  some 
what  between  the  upper  and  lower  mandibles. 
How  prompt  the  suggestion  of  a  low  motive  ! 
Certain  patriots  in  England  devoted  themselves 
for  years  to  creating  a  public  opinion  that  should 
break  down  the  corn-laws  and  establish  free  trade. 
*  Well,'  says  the  man  in  the  street,  '  Cobden  got 
a  stipend  out  of  it.'  Kossuth  fled  hither  across  the 


184  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

ocean  to  try  if  he  could  rouse  the  New  World  to 
a  sympathy  with  European  liberty.  '  Aye,'  says 
New  York,  '  he  made  a  handsome  thing  of  it, 
enougli  to  make  him  comfortable  for  life.' 

See  what  allowance  vice  finds  in  the  respect 
able  and  well-conditioned  class.  If  a  pickpocket 
intrude  into  the  society  of  gentlemen,  they  exert 
what  moral  force  they  have,  and  he  finds  himself 
uncomfortable,  and  glad  to  get  away.  But  if  an 
adventurer  go  through  all  the  forms,  procure  him 
self  to  be  elected  to  a  post  of  trust,  as  of  senator, 
or  president,  —  though  by  the  same  arts  as  we 
detest  in  the  house-thief,  —  the  same  gentlemen 
who  agree  to  discountenance  the  private  rogue, 
will  be  forward  to  show  civilities  and  marks  of 
respect  to  the  public  one  :  and  no  amount  of  evi 
dence  of  his  crimes  will  prevent  them  giving  him 
ovations,  complimentary  dinners,  opening  their  own 
houses  to  him,  and  priding  themselves  on  his  ac 
quaintance.-  We  were  not  deceived  by  the  profes 
sions  of  the  private  adventurer,  —  the  louder  he 
talked  of  his  honor,  the  faster  we  counted  our 
spoons  ;  but  we  appeal  to  the  sanctified  preamble 
of  the  messages  and  proclamations  of  the  public 
sinner,  as  the  proof  of  sincerity.  It  must  be  that 
they  who  pay  this  homage  have  said  to  themselves, 
On  the  whole,  we  don't  know  about  this  that  you 
call  honesty :  a  bird  in  the  hand  is  better. 

Even    well-disposed,   good    sort    of   people   are 


WORSHIP.  185 

touched  with  the  same  infidelity,  and  for  brave, 
straightforward  action,  use  half-measures  and  com 
promises.  Forgetful  that  a  little  measure  is  a 
great  error,  forgetful  that  a  wise  mechanic  uses  a 
sharp  tool,  they  go  on  choosing  the  dead  men  of 
routine.  But  the  official  men  can  in  nowise  help 
you  in  any  question  of  to-day,  they  deriving  entire 
ly  from  the  old  dead  things.  Only  those  can  help 
in  counsel  or  conduct  who  did  not  make  a  party 
pledge  to  defend  this  or  that,  hut  who  were  ap 
pointed  by  God  Almighty,  before  they  came  into 
the  world,  to  stand  for  this  which  they  uphold. 

It  has  been  charged  that  a  want  of  sincerity  in 
the  leading  men  is  a  vice  general  throughout  Amer 
ican  society.  But  the  multitude  of  the  sick  shall 
not  make  us  deny  the  existence  of  health.  In  spite 
of  our  imbecility  and  terrors,  and  "  universal  decay 
of  religion,"  &c.  &c.,  the  moral  sense  reappears  to 
day  with  the  same  morning  newness  that  has  been 
from  of  old  the  fountain  of  beauty  and  strength. 
You  say,  there  is  no  religion  now.  'Tis  like  saying 
in  rainy  weather,  there  is  no  sun,  when  at  that  mo 
ment  we  are  witnessing  one  of  his  superlative  effects. 
The  religion  of  the  cultivated  class  now,  to  be  sure, 
consists  in  an  avoidance  of  acts  and  engagements 
which  it  was  once  their  religion  to  assume.  But 
this  avoidance  will  yield  spontaneous  forms  in  their 
due  hour.  There  is  a  principle  which  is  the  basis 
of  things,  which  all  speech  aims  to  say,  and  all 


186  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

action  to  evolve,  a  simple,  quiet,  undesc'ribed,  un- 
describable  presence,  dwelling  very  peacefully  in  us, 
our  rightful  lord :  we  are  not  to  do,  but  to  let  do  ; 
not  to  work,  but  to  be  worked  upon  ;  and  to  this 
homage  there  is  a  consent  of  all  thoughtful  and  just 
men  in  all  ages  and  conditions.  To  this  sentiment 
belong  vast  and  sudden  enlargements  of  power. 
'Tis  remarkable  that  our  faith  in  ecstasy  consists 
with  total  inexperience  of  it.  It  is  the  order  of  the 
world  to  educate  with  accuracy  the  senses  and  the 
understanding ;  and  the  enginery  at  work  to  draw 
out  these  powers  in  priority,  no  doubt,  has  its  office. 
But  we  are  never  without  a  hint  that  these  powers 
are  mediate  and  servile,  and  that  we  are  one  day 
to  deal  with  real  being,  —  essences  with  essences. 
Even  the  fury  of  material  activity  has  some  results 
friendly  to  moral  health.  The  energetic  action  of 
the  times  develops  individualism,  and  the  religious 
appear  isolated.  I  esteem  this  a  step  in  the  right 
direction.  Heaven  deals  with  us  on  no  representa 
tive  system.  Souls  are  not  saved  in  bundles.  The 
Spirit  saith  to  the  man,  4  How  is  it  with  thee  ?  thee 
personally  ?  is  it  well  ?  is  it  ill  ?  '  For  a  great  na 
ture,  it  is  a  happiness  to  escape  a  religious  training, 
—  religion  of  character  is  so  apt  to  be  invaded. 
Religion  must  always  be  a  crab  fruit :  it  cannot  be 
grafted  and  keep  its  wild  beauty.  "  I  have  seen," 
said  a  traveller  whti  had  known  the  extremes  of  so 
ciety,  "  I  have  seen  human  nature  in  all  its  forms, 


WORSHIP.  187 

it  is  everywhere   the   same,  hut   the  wilder  it   is, 
the  more  virtuous." 

We  say,  the  old  forms  of  religion  decay,  and  that 
a  skepticism  devastates  the  community.  I  do  not 
think  it  can  be  cured  or  stayed  hy  any  modification 
of  theologic  creeds,  much  less  by  theologic  disci 
pline.  The  cure  for  false  theology  is  motherwit. 
Forget  your  books  and  traditions,  and  obey  your 
moral  perceptions  at  this  hour.  That  which  is  sig 
nified  by  the  words  "  moral  "  and  "  spiritual,"  is  a 
lasting  essence,  and,  with  whatever  illusions  we 
have  loaded  them,  will  certainly  bring  back  the 
words,  age  after  age,  to  their  ancient  meaning. 
I  know  no  words  that  mean  so  much.  In  our 
definitions,  we  grope  after  the  spiritual  by  de 
scribing  it  as  invisible.  The  true  meaning  of 
spiritual  is  real;  that  law  which  executes  itself, 
which  works  without  means,  and  which  cannot 
be  conceived  as  not  existing.  Men  talk  of  "  mere 
morality,"  —  which  is  much  as  if  one  should  say, 
'  poor  God,  with  nobody  to  help  him.'  I  find  the 
omnipresence  and  the  almightiness  in  the  reaction 
of  every  atom  in  Nature.  I  can  best  indicate  by 
examples  those  reactions  by  which  every  part  of 
Nature  replies  to  the  purpose  of  the  actor,  —  be 
neficently  to  the  good,  penally  to  the  bad.  Let 
us  replace  sentimentalism  by  realism,  and  dare  to 
uncover  those  simple  and  terrible  laws  which,  be 
they  seen  or  unseen,  pervade  and  govern. 


188  CONDUCT    OF  LIFE. 

Every  man  takes  care  that  his  neighbor  shall  not 
cheat  him.  But  a  day  comes  when  he  begins  to 
care  that  he  do  not  cheat  his  neighbor.  Then  all 
goes  well.  He  has  changed  his  market-cart  into  a 
chariot  of  the  sun.  What  a  day  dawns,  when  we 
have  taken  to  heart  the  doctrine  of  faith  !  to  prefer, 
as  a  better  investment,  being  to  doing;  being  to 
seeming ;  logic  to  rhythm  and  to  display  ;  the  year 
to  the  day  ;  the  life  to  the  year  ;  character  to  per 
formance  ;  —  and  have  come  to  know,  that  justice 
will  be  done  us  ;  and,  if  our  genius  is  slow,  the 
term  will  be  long. 

'Tis  certain  that  worship  stands  in  some  com 
manding  relation  to  the  health  of  man,  and  to  his 
highest  powers,  so  as  to  be,  in  some  manner,  the 
source  of  intellect.  All  the  great  ages  have  been 
ages  of  belief.  I  mean,  wlien  there  was  any 
extraordinary  power  of  performance,  when  great 
national  movements  began,  when  arts  appeared, 
when  heroes  existed,  when  poems  were  made,  the 
human  soul  was  in  earnest,  and  had  fixed  its 
thoughts  on  spiritual  verities,  with  as  strict  a  grasp 
as  that  of  the  hands  on  the  sword,  or  the  pencil,  or 
the  trowel.  It  is  true  that  genius  takes  its  rise  out 
of  the  mountains  of  rectitude ;  that  all  beauty  and 
power  which  men  covet,  are  somehow  born  out  of 
that  Alpine  district ;  that  any  extraordinary  degree 
of  beauty  in  man  or  woman  involves  a  moral 
charm.  Thus,  I  think,  we  very  slowly  admit  in 


WORSHIP.  189 

another  man  a  higher  degree  of  moral  sentiment 
than  our  own,  —  a  finer  conscience,  more  impres 
sionable,  or,  which  marks  minuter  degrees ;  an  ear 
to  hear  acuter  notes  of  right  and  wrong,  than  we 
can.  I  think  we  listen  suspiciously  and  very  slowly 
to  any  evidence  to  that  point.  But,  once  satisfied 
of  such  superiority,  we  set  no  limit  to  our  expecta 
tion  of  his  genius.  For  such  persons  are  nearer 
to  the  secret  of  God  than  others ;  are  bathed  by 
sweeter  waters  ;  they  hear  notices,  they  see  visions, 
where  others  are  vacant.  We  believe  that  holiness 
confers  a  certain  insight,  because  not  by  our  private, 
but  by  our  public  force,  can  we  share  and  know  the 
nature  of  things. 

There  is  an  intimate  interdependence  of  intellect 
and  morals.  Given  the  equality  of  two  intellects, 
—  which  will  form  the  most  reliable  judgments, 
the  good,  or  the  bad  hearted  ?  "  The  heart  has  its 
arguments,  with  which  the  understanding  is  not 
acquainted."  For  the  heart  is  at  once  aware  of  the 
state  of  health  or  disease,  which  is  the  controlling 
state,  that  is,  of  sanity  or  of  insanity,  prior,  of 
course,  to  all  question  of  the  ingenuity  of  argu 
ments,  the  amount  of  facts,  or  the  elegance  of 
rhetoric.  So  intimate  is  this  alliance  of  mind  and 
heart,  that  talent  uniformly  sinks  with  character. 
The  bias  of  errors  of  principle  carries  away  men 
into  perilous  courses,  as  soon  as  their  will  does  not 
control  their  passion  or  talent.  Hence  the  extraor- 


190  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

dinary  blunders,  and  final  wrong  head,  into  which, 
men  spoiled  by  ambition  usually  fall.  Hence  the 
remedy  for  all  blunders,  the  cure  of  blindness, 
the  cure  of  crime,  is  love.  "  As  much  love,  so 
much  mind,"  said  the  Latin  proverb.  The  supe 
riority  that  has  no  superior ;  the  redeemer  and 
instructor  of  souls,  as  it  is  their  primal  essence,  is 
love. 

The  moral  must  be  the  measure  of  health.  If 
your  eye  is  on  the  eternal,  your  intellect  will  grow, 
and  your  opinions  and  actions  will  have  a  beauty 
which  no  learning  or  combined  advantages  of  other 
men  can  rival.  The  moment  of  your  loss  of  faith, 
and  acceptance  of  the  lucrative  standard,  will  be 
marked  in  the  pause,  or  solstice  of  genius,  the  se 
quent  retrogression,  and  the  inevitable  loss  of  attrac 
tion  to  other  minds.  The  vulgar  are  sensible  of  the 
change  in  you,  and  of  your  descent,  though  they 
clap  you  on  the  back,  and  congratulate  you  on  your 
increased  common  sense. 

Our  recent  culture  has  been  in  natural  science. 
We  have  learned  the  manners  of  the  sun  and  of  the 
moon,  of  the  rivers  and  the  rains,  of  the  mineral 
and  elemental  kingdoms,  of  plants  and  animals. 
Man  has  learned  to  weigh  the  sun,  and  its  weight 
neither  loses  nor  gains.  The  path  of  a  star,  the 
moment  of  an  eclipse,  can  be  determined  to  the 
fraction  of  a  second.  Well,  to  him  the  book  of 
nistory,  the  book  of  love,  the  lures  of  passion,  and 


WORSHIP.  191 

the  commandments  of  duty  are  opened  :  and  the 
next  lesson  taught,  is,  the  continuation  of  the  inflex 
ible  law  of  matter  into  the  subtile  kingdom  of  will, 
and  of  thought ;  that,  if,  in  sidereal  ages,  gravity 
and  projection  keep  their  craft,  and  the  ball  never 
loses  its  way  in  its  wild  path  through  space,  —  a 
secreter  gravitation,  a  secreter  projection,  rule  not 
less  tyrannically  in  human  history,  and  keep  the 
balance  of  power  from  age  to  age  unbroken.  For, 
though  the  new  element  of  freedom  and  an  indi 
vidual  has  been  admitted,  yet  the  primordial  atoms 
are  prefigured  and  predetermined  to  moral  issues, 
are  in  search  of  justice,  and  ultimate  right  is  done. 
Religion  or  worship  is  the  attitude  of  those  who  see 
this  unity,  intimacy,  and  sincerity  ;  who  see  that, 
against  all  appearances,  the  nature  of  things  works 
for  truth  and  right  forever. 

'Tis  a  short  sight  to  limit  our  faith  in  laws  to 
those  of  gravity,  of  chemistry,  of  botany,  and  so 
forth.  Those  laws  do  not  stop  where  our  eyes  lose 
them,  but  push  the  same  geometry  and  chemistry 
up  into  the  invisible  plane  of  social  and  rational 
life,  so  that,  look  where  we  will,  in  a  boy's  game, 
or  in  the  strifes  of  races,  a  perfect  reaction,  a  per 
petual  judgment  keeps  watch  and  ward.  And  this 
appears  in  a  class  of  facts  which  concerns  all  men, 
within  and  above  their  creeds. 

Shallow  men  believe  in  luck,  believe  in  circum 
stances  :  It  was  somebody's  name,  or  he  happened 


192  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

to  be  there  at  the  time,  or,  it  was  so  then,  and  an 
other  day  it  would  have  been  otherwise.  Strong 
men  believe  in  cause  and  effect.  The  man  was 
born  to  do  it,  and  his  father  was  born  to  be  the 
father  of  him  and  of  this  deed,  and,  by  looking  nar 
rowly,  you  shall  see  there  was  no  luck  in  the  mat 
ter,  but  it  was  all  a  problem  in  arithmetic,  or  an 
experiment  in  chemistry.  The  curve  of  the  flight 
of  the  moth  is  preordained,  and  all  things  go  by 
number,  rule,  and  weight. 

Skepticism  is  unbelief  in  cause  and  effect.  A 
man  does  not  see,  that,  as  he  eats,  so  he  thinks  :  as 
he  deals,  so  he  is,  and  so  he  appears ;  he  does  not 
see,  that  his  son  is  the  son  of  his  thoughts  and 
of  his  actions ;  that  fortunes  are  not  exceptions 
but  fruits ;  that  relation  and  connection  are  not 
somewhere  and  sometimes,  but  everywhere  and  al 
ways  ;  no  miscellany,  no  exemption,  no  anomaly,  — 
but  method,  and  an  even  web  ;  and  what  comes  out, 
that  was  put  in.  As  we  are,  so  we  do  ;  and  as  we 
do,  so  is  it  done  to  us  ;  we  are  the  builders  of  our 
fortunes  ;  cant  and  lying  and  the  attempt  to  secure 
a  good  which  does  not  belong  to  us,  are,  once  for 
all,  balked  and  vain.  But,  in  the  human  mind,  this 
tie  of  fate  is  made  alive.  The  law  is  the  basis  of 
the  human  mind.  In  us,  it  is  inspiration  ;  out 
there  in  Nature,  we  see  its  fatal  strength.  We  call 
it  the  moral  sentiment. 

We  owe  to  the  Hindoo  Scriptures  a  definition  of 


WORSHIP.  193 

Law,  which  compares  well  with  any  in  our  Western 
books.  "  Law  it  is,  which  is  without  name,  or 
color,  or  hands,  or  feet ;  which  is  smallest  of  the 
least,  and  largest  of  the  large  ;  all,  and  knowing 
all  things  ;  which  hears  without  ears,  sees  with 
out  eyes,  moves  without  feet,  and  seizes  without 
hands." 

If  any  reader  tax  me  with  using  vague  and  tra 
ditional  phrases,  let  me  suggest  to  him,  by  a  few 
examples,  what  kind  of  a  trust  this  is,  and  how  real. 
Let  me  show  him  that  the  dice  are  loaded ;  that  the 
colors  are  fast,  because  they  are  the  native  colors 
of  the  fleece  ;  that  the  globe  is  a  battery,  because 
every  atom  is  a  magnet ;  and  that  the  police  and 
sincerity  of  the  Universe  are  secured  by  God's  dele 
gating  his  divinity  to  every  particle ;  that  there  is 
no  room  for  hypocrisy,  no  margin  for  choice. 

The  countryman  leaving  his  native  village,  for 
the  first  time,  and  going  abroad,  finds  all  his  habits 
broken  up.  In  a  new  nation  and  language,  his  sect, 
as  Quaker,  or  Lutheran,  is  lost.  What !  it  is  not 
then  necessary  to  the  order  and  existence  of  so 
ciety?  He  misses  this,  and  the  commanding  eye 
of  his  neighborhood,  which  held  him  to  decorum. 
This  is  the  peril  of  New  York,  of  New  Orleans,  of 
London,  of  Paris,  to  young  men.  But  after  a  little 
experience,  he  makes  the  discovery  that  there  are 
no  large  cities,  —  none  large  enough  to  hide  in ; 
that  the  censors  of  action  are  as  numerous  and  as" 


194  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

* 

near  in  Paris,  as  in  Littleton  or  Portland  ;  that  the 
gossip  is  as  prompt  and  vengeful.  There  is  no  con 
cealment,  and,  for  each  offence,  a  several  vengeance ; 
that,  reaction,  or  nothing  for  nothing,  or,  things  are 
as  broad  as  they  are  long,  is  not  a  rule  for  Littleton 
or  Portland,  but  for  the  Universe. 

We  cannot  spare  the  coarsest,  muniment  of  vir 
tue.  We  are  disgusted  by  gossip  ;  yet  it  is  of 
importance  to  keep  the  angels  in  their  proprieties. 
The  smallest  fly  will  draw  blood,  and  gossip  is  a 
weapon  impossible  to  exclude  from  the  privatest, 
highest,  selectest.  Nature  created  a  police  of  many 
ranks.  God  has  delegated  himself  to  a  million  dep 
uties.  From  these  low  external  penalties,  the  scale 
ascends.  Next  come  the  resentments,  the  fears, 
which  injustice  calls  out ;  then,  the  false  relations 
in  which  the  offender  is  put  to  other  men  ;  and  the 
reaction  of  his  fault  on  himself,  in  the  solitude  and 
devastation  of  his  mind. 

You  cannot  hide  any  secret.  If  the  artist  succor 
his  flagging  spirits  by  opium  or  wine,  his  work  will 
characterize  itself  as  the  effect  of  opium  or  wine. 
If  you  make  a  picture  or  a  statue,  it  sets  the  be 
holder  in  that  state  of  mind  you  had,  when  you 
made  it.  If  you  spend  for  show,  on  building,  or 
gardening,  or  on  pictures,  or  on  equipages,  it  will  so 
appear.  We  are  all  physiognomists  and  penetrators 
of  character,  and  things  themselves  are  detective. 
If  you  follow  the  suburban  fashion  in  building  a 


WORSHIP.  195 

sumptuous-looking  house  for  a  little  money,  it  will 
appear  to  all  eyes  as  a  cheap  dear  house.     There 
is  no  privacy  that  cannot  be  penetrated.     No  secret 
can  be  kept  in   the  civilized  world.     Society  is  a 
masked  ball,  where  every  one  hides  his  real  char 
acter,  and  reveals  it  by  hiding.     If  a  man  wish  to 
conceal  anything  he  carries,  those  whom  he  meets 
know  that  he  conceals  somewhat,  and  usually  know 
what  he  conceals.     Is  it  otherwise  if  there  be  some 
belief  or  some  purpose  he  would  bury  in  his  breast  ? 
'Tis  as  hard  to  hide  as  fire.     He  is  a  strong  man 
who  can  hold  down  his  opinion.     A  man  cannot 
utter  two  or  three  sentences,  without  disclosing  to 
intelligent  ears  precisely  where   he   stands  in  life 
and    thought,    namely,    whether    in    the    kingdom 
of  the  senses  and    the  understanding,   or,  in   that 
of  ideas  and  imagination,  in  the  realm  of  intuitions 
and  duty.     People  seem  not  to  see  that  their  opin 
ion  of  the  world  is  also  a  confession  of  character. 
We  can  only  see  what  we  are,  and  if  we  misbehave 
we  suspect  others.     The  fame  of  Shakspeare  or  of 
Voltaire,  of  Thomas  a  Kempis,  or  of  Bonaparte, 
characterizes  those  who   give  it.      As  gas-light  is 
found  to  be  the  best  nocturnal  police,  so  the  uni 
verse  protects  itself  by  pitiless  publicity. 

Each  must  be  armed  —  not  necessarily  with  mus 
ket  and  pike.  Happy,  if,  seeing  these,  he  can  feel 
that  he  has  better  muskets  and  pikes -in  his  en 
ergy  and  constancy.  To  every  creature  is  his  owh 


196  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

weapon,  however  skilfully  concealed  from  himself, 
a  good  while.  His  work  is  sword  and  shield. 
Let  him  accuse  none,  let  him  injure  none.  The 
way  to  mend  the  bad  world,  is  to  create  the  right 
world.  Here  is  a  low  political  economy  plotting  to 
cut  the  throat  of  foreign  competition,  and  establish 
our  own  ;  —  excluding  others  by  force,  or  making 
war  on  them  ;  or,  by  cunning  tariffs,  giving  prefer 
ence  to  worse  wares  of  ours.  But  the  real  and 
lasting  victories  are  those  of  peace,  and  not  of  war. 
The  way  to  conquer  the  foreign  artisan,  is,  not  to 
kill  him,  but  to  beat  his  work.  And  the  Crystal 
Palaces  and  World  Fairs,  with  their  committees 
and  prizes  on  all  kinds  of  industry,  are  the  re 
sult  of  this  feeling.  The  American  workman  who 
strikes  ten  blows  with  his  hammer,  whilst  the  for 
eign  workman  only  strikes  one,  is  as  really  van 
quishing  that  foreigner,  as  if  the  blows  were  aimed 
at  and  told  on  his  person.  I  look  on  that  man 
as  happy,  who,  when  there  is  question  of  success, 
looks  into  his  work  for  a  reply,  not  into  the 
market,  not  into  opinion,  not  into  patronage.  In 
every  variety  of  human  employment,  in  the  me 
chanical  and  in  the  fine  arts,  in  navigation,  in  farm 
ing,  in  legislating,  there  are  among  the  numbers 
who  do  their  task  perfunctorily,  as  we  say,  or  just 
to  pass,  and  as  badly  as  they  dare,  —  there  are  the 
working-men,  on  whom  the  burden  of  the  business 
falls,  —  those  who  love  work,  and  love  to  see  it 


WORSHIP.  197 

rightly  done,  who  finish  their  task  for  its  own  sake  ; 
and  the  state  and  the  world  is  happy,  that  has  the 
most  of  such  finishers.  The  world  will  always  do 
justice  at  last  to  such  finishers :  it  cannot  otherwise. 
He  who  has  acquired  the  ability,  may  wait  securely 
the  occasion  of  making  it  felt  and  appreciated,  and 
know  that  it  will  not  loiter.  Men  talk  as  if  vic 
tory  were  something  fortunate.  Work  is  victory. 
Wherever  work  is  done,  victory  is  obtained.  There 
is  no  chance,  and  no  blanks.  You  want  but  one 
verdict :  if  you  have  your  own,  you  are  secure  of 
the  rest.  And  yet,  if  witnesses  are  wanted,  wit 
nesses  are  near.  There  was  never  a  man  born  so 
wise  or  good,  but  one  or  more  companions  came 
into  the  world  with  him,  who  delight  in  his  faculty, 
and  report  it.  I  cannot  see  without  awe,  that  no 
man  thinks  alone,  and  no  man  acts  alone,  but  the 
divine  assessors  who  came  up  with  him  into  life, 
—  now  under  one  disguise,  now  under  another,  — 
like  a  police  in  citizens'  clothes,  walk  with  him, 
step  for  step,  through  all  the  kingdom  of  time. 

This  reaction,  this  sincerity  is  the  property  of  all 
things.  To  make  our  word  or  act  sublime,  we 
must  make  it  real.  It  is  our  system  that  counts, 
not  the  single  word  or  unsupported  action.  Use 
what  language  you  will,  you  can  never  say  any 
thing  but  what  you  are.  What  I  am.  and  what  I 
think,  is  conveyed  to  you,  in  spite  of  my  efforts  to 
hold  it  back.  What  I  am  has  been  secretly  con- 


198  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

veyed  from    me   to   another,  whilst   I   was   vainly 
making  up  my  mind  to  tell  him  it.     He  has  heard ' 
from  me  what  I  never  spoke. 

As  men  get  on  in  life,  they  acquire  a  love  for 
sincerity,  and  somewhat  less  solicitude  to  be  lulled 
or  amused.  In  the  progress  of  the  character,  there 
is  an  increasing  faith  in  the  moral  sentiment,  and 
a  decreasing  faith  in  propositions.  Young  people 
admire  talents,  and  particular  excellences.  As  we 
grow  older,  we  value  total  powers  and  effects,  as 
the  spirit,  or  quality  of  the  man.  We  have  another 
sight,  and  a  new  standard ;  an  insight  which  disre 
gards  what  is  done  for  the  eye,  and  pierces  to  the 
doer ;  an  ear  which  hears  not  what  men  say,  but 
hears  what  they  do  not  say. 

There  was  a  wise,  devout  man  who  is  called,  in 
the  Catholic  Church,  St.  Philip  Neri,  of  wliom 
many  anecdotes  touching  his  discernment  and  be 
nevolence  are  told  at  Naples  and  Rome.  Among 
the  nuns  in  a  convent  not  far  from  Rome,  one  had 
appeared,  who  laid  claim  to  certain  rare  gifts  of 
inspiration  and  prophecy,  and  the  abbess  advised 
the  Holy  Father,  at  Rome,  of  the  wonderful  powers 
shown  by  her  novice.  The  Pope  did  not  well  know 
what  to  make  of  these  new  claims,  and  Philip  com 
ing  in  from  a  journey,  one  day,  he  consulted  him. 
Philip  undertook  to  visit  the  nun,  and  ascertain 
her  character.  He  threw  himself  on  his  mule,  all 
travel-soiled  as  he  was,  and  hastened  through  the 


WORSHIP.  199 

mud  and  mire  to  the  distant  convent.  He  told  the 
abbess  the  wishes  of  his  Holiness,  and  begged  her 
to  summon  the  nun  without  delay.  The  nun  was 
sent  for,  and,  as  soon  as  she  came  into  the  apart 
ment,  Philip  stretched  out  his  leg  all  bespattered 
with  mud,  and  desired  her  to  draw  off  his  boots. 
The  young  nun,  who  had  become  the  object  of  much 
attention  and  respect,  drew  back  with  anger,  and  re 
fused  the  office :  Philip  ran  out  of  doors,  mounted  his 
mule,  and  returned  instantly  to  the  Pope  ;  "  Give 
yourself  no  uneasiness,  Holy  Father,  any  longer : 
here  is  no  miracle,  for  here  is  no  humility." 

We  need  not  much  mind  what  people  please  to 
say,  but  what  they  must  say ;  what  their  natures 
say,  though  their  busy,  artful,  Yankee  understand 
ings  try  to  hold  back,  and  choke  that  word,  and 
to  articulate  something  different.  If  we  will  sit 
quietly,  —  what  they  ought  to  say  is  said,  with  their 
will,  or  against  their  will.  We  do  not  care  for 
you,  let  us  pretend  what  we  will :  —  we  are  always 
looking  through  you  to  the  dim  dictator  behind 
you.  Whilst  your  habit  or  whim  chatters,  we 
civilly  and  impatiently  wait  until  that  wise  supe 
rior  shall  speak  again.  Even  children  are  not 
deceived  by  the  false  reasons  which  their  parents 
give  in  answer  to  their  questions,  whether  touch 
ing  natural  facts,  or  religion,  or  persons.  When 
the  parent,  instead  of  thinking  how  it  really  is, 
puts  them  off  with  a  traditional  or  a  hypocritical 


200  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

answer,  the  children  perceive  that  it  is  traditional 
or  hypocritical.  To  a  sound  constitution  the  defect 
of  another  is  at  once  manifest :  and  the  marks  of  it 
are  only  concealed  from  us  by  our  own  dislocation. 
An  anatomical  observer  remarks,  that  the  sympa 
thies  of  the  chest,  abdomen,  and  pelvis,  tell  at  last 
on  the  face,  and  on  all  its  features.  Not  only  does 
our  beauty  waste,  but  it  leaves  word  how  it  went  to 
waste.  Physiognomy  and  phrenology  are  not  new 
sciences,  but  declarations  of  the  soul  that  it  is  aware 
of  certain  new  sources  of  information.  And  now 
sciences  of  broader  scope  are  starting  up  behind 
these.  And  so  for  ourselves,  it  is  really  of  little 
importance  what  blunders  in  statement  we  make, 
so  only  we  make  no  wilful  departures  from  the 
truth.  How  a  man's  truth  comes  to  mind,  long 
after  we  have  forgotten  all  his  words  !  How 
it  comes  to  us  in  silent  hours,  that  truth  is  our 
only  armor  in  all  passages  of  life  and  death  !  "Wit 
is  cheap,  and  anger  is  cheap  ;  but  if  you  cannot 
argue  or  explain  yourself  to  the  other  party,  cleave 
to  the  truth  against  me,  against  thee,  and  you  gain 
a  station  from  which  you  cannot  be  dislodged.  The 
other  party  will  forget  the  words  that  you  spoke, 
but  the  part  you  took  continues  to  plead  for  you. 
Why  should  I  hasten  to  solve  every  riddle  which 
life  offers  me  ?  I  am  well  assured  that  the  Ques 
tioner,  who  brings  me  so  many  problems,  will  bring 
the  answers  also  in  due  time.  Very  rich,  very  po- 


WORSHIP.  201 

tent,  very  cheerful  Giver  that  lie  is,  he  shall  have  it 
all  his  own  way,  for  me.  Why  should  I  give  up 
my  thought,  because  I  cannot  answer  an  objection 
to  it  ?  Consider  only,  whether  it  remains  in  my 
life  the  same  it  was.  That  only  which  we  have 
within,  can  we  see  without.  If  we  meet  no  gods, 
it  is  because  we  harbor  none.  If  there  is  gran 
deur  in  you,  you  will  find  grandeur  in  porters  and 
sweeps.  He  .only  is  rightly  immortal,  to  whom  all 
things  are  immortal.  I  have  read  somewhere,  that 
none  is  accomplished,  so  long  as  any  are  incom 
plete  ;  that  the  happiness  of  one  cannot  consist  with 
the  misery  of  any  other. 

The  Buddhists  say,  "  No  seed  will  die :  "  every 
seed  will  grow.  Where  is  the  service  which  can 
escape  its  remuneration  ?  What  is  vulgar,  and  the 
essence  of  all  vulgarity,  but  the  avarice  of  reward  ? 
'Tis  the  difference  of  artisan  and  artist,  of  talent 
and  genius,  of  sinner  and  saint.  The  man  whose 
eyes  are  nailed  not  on  the  nature  of  his  act,  but  on 
the  wages,  whether  it  be  money,  or  office,  or  fame, 
—  is  almost  equally  low.  He  is  great,  whose  eyes 
are  opened  to  see  that  the  reward  of  actions  cannot 
be  escaped,  because  he  is  transformed  into  his  ac 
tion,  and  taketh  its  nature,  which  bears  its  own 
fruit,  like  every  other  tree.  A  great  man  cannot 
be  hindered  of  the  effect  of  his  act,  because  it  is 
immediate.  The  genius  of  life  is  friendly  to  the 
noble,  and  in  the  dark  brings  them  friends  from  far. 

9* 


202  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

Fear  God,  and  where  you  go,  men  shall  think  they 
walk  in  hallowed  cathedrals. 

And  so  I  look  on  those  sentiments  which  make 
the  glory  of  the  human  being,  love,  humility,  faith, 
as  being  also  the  intimacy  of  Divinity  in  the  atoms ; 
and,  that,  as  soon  as  the  man  is  right,  assurances 
and  previsions  emanate  from  the  interior  of  his 
body  and  his  mind  ;  as,  when  flowers  reach  their 
ripeness,  incense  exhales  from  them,  and,  as  a 
beautiful  atmosphere  is  generated  from  the  planet 
by  the  averaged  emanations  from  all  its  rocks  and 
soils. 

Thus  man  is  made  equal  to  every  event.  He 
can  face  danger  for  the  right.  A  poor,  tender, 
painful  body,  he  can  run  into  flame  or  bullets  or 
pestilence,  with  duty  for  his  guide.  He  feels  the 
insurance  of  a  just  employment.  I  am  not  afraid 
of  accident,  as  long  as  I  am  in  my  place.  It  is 
strange  that  superior  persons  should  not  feel  that 
they  have  some  better  resistance  against  cholera, 
than  avoiding  green  peas  and  salads.  Life  is  hardly 
respectable,  —  is  it  ?  if  it  has  no  generous,  guaran 
teeing  task,  no  duties  or  affections,  that  constitute 
a  necessity  of  existing.  Every  man's  task  is  his  life- 
preserver.  The  conviction  that  his  work  is  dear 
to  God  and  cannot  be  spared,  defends  him.  The 
hVhtninff-rod  that  disarms  the  cloud  of  its  threat 

o  o 

is  his  body  in  its  duty.  A  high  aim  reacts  on 
the  means,  on  the  days,  on  the  organs  of  the 


WORSHIP.  203 

body.  A  high  aim  is  curative,  as  well  as  arnica. 
"  Napoleon,"  says  Goethe,  "  visited  those  sick  of 
the  plague,  in  order  to  prove  that  the  man  who 
could  vanquish  fear,  could  vanquish  the  plague 
also ;  and  he  was  right.  'Tis  incradible  what 
force  the  will  has  in  such  cases :  it  penetrates  the 
body,  and  puts  it  in  a  state  of  activity,  which 
repels  all  hurtful  influences ;  whilst  fear  invites 
them." 

It  is  related  of  William  of  Orange,  that,  whilst 
he  was  besieging  a  town  on  the  continent,  a  gen 
tleman  sent  to  him  on  public  business  came  to  his 
camp,  and,  learning  that  the  King  was  before  the 
walls,  he  ventured  to  go  where  he  was.  He  found 
him  directing  the  operation  of  his  gunners,  and, 
having  explained  his  errand,  and  received  his  an 
swer,  the  King  said,  "  Do  you  not  know,  sir,  that 
every  moment  you  spend  here  is  at  the  risk  of  your 
life  ?  "  -  "  I  run  no  more  risk,"  replied  the  gentle 
man,  "  than  your  Majesty."  "  Yes,"  said  the 
King,  "  but  my  duty  brings  me  here,  and  yours 
does  not."  In  a  few  minutes,  a  cannon-ball  fell 
on  the  spot,  and  the  gentleman  was  killed. 

Thus  can  the  faithful  student  reverse  all  the 
warnings  of  his  early  instinct,  under  the  guidance 
of  a  deeper  instinct.  He  learns  to  welcome  mis 
fortune,  learns  that  adversity  is  the  prosperity  of 
the  great.  He  learns  the  greatness  of  humility. 
He  shall  work  in  the  dark,  work  against  failure, 


204  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

pain,  and  ill-will.  If  he  is  insulted,  he  can  be 
insulted ;  all  his  affair  is  not  to  insult.  Hafiz 
writes, 

At  the  last  day,  men  shall  wear 
On  their  heads  the  dust, 
As  ensign  and  as  ornament 
Of  their  lowly  trust. 

The  moral  equalizes  all ;  enriches,  empowers  all. 
It  is  the  coin  which  buys  all,  and  which  all  find  in 
their  pocket.  Under  the  whip  of  the  driver,  the 
slave  shall  feel  his  equality  with  saints  and  heroes. 
In  the  greatest  destitution  and  calamity,  it  surprises 
man  with  a  feeling  of  elasticity  which  makes  noth 
ing  of  loss. 

I  recall  some  traits  of  a  remarkable  person  whose 
life  and  discourse  betrayed  many  inspirations  of  this 
sentiment.  Benedict  was  always  great  in  the  pres 
ent  time.  He  had  hoarded  nothing  from  the  past, 
neither  in  his  cabinets,  neither  in  his  memory.  He 
had  no  designs  on  the  future,  neither  for  what  he 
should  do  to  men,  nor"  for  what  men  should  do  for 
him.  He  said,  *  I  am  never  beaten  until  I  know 
that  I  am  beaten.  I  meet  powerful  brutal  people 
to  whom  I  have  no  skill  to  reply.  They  think  they 
have  defeated  me.  It  is  so  published  in  society,  in 
the  journals ;  I  am  defeated  in  this  fashion,  in  all 
men's  sight,  perhaps  on  a  dozen  different  lines.  My 
leger  may  show  that  I  am  in  debt,  cannot  yet  make 
my  ends  meet,  and  vanquish  the  enemy  so.  My 


WORSHIP.  205 

race  may  not  be  prospering  :  we  are  sick,  ugly, 
obscure,  unpopular.  My  children  may  be  worsted. 
I  seem  to  fail  in  my  friends  and  clients,  too.  That 
is  to  say,  in  all  the  encounters  that  have  yet 
chanced,  I  have  not  been  weaponed  for  that  par 
ticular  occasion,  and  have  been  historically  beaten  ; 
and  yet,  I  know,  all  the  time,  that  I  have  never 
been  beaten ;  have  never  yet  fought,  shall  certainly 
fight,  when  my  hour  comes,  and  shall  beat.'  "  A 
man,"  says  the  Vishnu  Sarma,  "  who  having  well 
compared  his  own  strength  or  weakness  with  that 
of  others,  after  all  doth  not  know  the  difference,  is 
easily  overcome  by  his  enemies." 

'  I  spent,'  he  said,  '  ten  months  in  the  coun 
try.  Thick-starred  Orion  was  my  only  companion. 
Wherever  a  squirrel  or  a  bee  can  go  with  security, 
I  can  go.  I  ate  whatever  was  set  before  me  ;  I 
touched  ivy  and  dogwood.  When  I  went  abroad, 
I  kept  company  with  every  man  on  the  road,  for  I 
knew  that  my  evil  and  my  good  did  not  come  from 
these,  but  from  the  Spirit,  whose  servant  I  was. 
For  I  could  not  stoop  to  be  a  circumstance,  as  they 
did,  who  put  their  life  into  their  fortune  and  their 
company.  I  would  not  degrade  myself  by  casting 
about  in  my  memory  for  a  thought,  nor  by  waiting 
for  one.  If  the  thought  come,  I  would  give  it 
entertainment.  It  should,  as  it  ought,  go  into  my 
hands  and  feet ;  but  if  it  come  not  spontaneously,  it 
comes  not  rightly  at  all.  If  it  can  spare  me,  I  am 


206  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

sure  I  can  spare  it.  It  shall  be  the  same  with  my 
friends.  I  will  never  woo  the  loveliest.  I  will  not 
ask  any  friendship  or  favor.  When  I  come  to  my 
own,  we  shall  both  know  it.  Nothing  will  be  to  be 
asked  or  to  be  granted.'  Benedict  went  out  to  seek 
his  friend,  and  met  him  on  the  way ;  but  he  ex 
pressed  no  surprise  at  any  coincidences.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  he  called  at  the  door  of  his  friend, 
and  he  was  not  at  home,  he  did  not  go  again  ; 
concluding  that  he  had  misinterpreted  the  intima 
tions. 

He  had  the  whim  not  to  make  an  apology  to 
the  same  individual  whom  he  had  wronged.  For 
this,  he  said,  was  a  piece  of  personal  vanity ; 
but  he  would  correct  his  conduct  in  that  respect 
in  which  he  had  faulted,  to  the  next  person  he 
should  meet.  Thus,  he  said,  universal  justice  was 
satisfied. 

Mira  came  to  ask  what  she  should  do  with  the 
poor  Genesee  woman  who  had  hired  herself  to  work 
for  her,  at  a  shilling  a  day,  and,  now  sickening,  was 
like  to  be  bedridden  on  her  hands.  Should  she 
keep  her,  or  should  she  dismiss  her  ?  But  Benedict 
said,  '  Why  ask  ?  One  thing  will  clear  itself  as  the 
thing  to  be  done,  and  not  another,  when  the  hour 
comes.  Is  it  a  question,  whether  to  put  her  into 
the  street?  Just  as  much  whether  to  thrust  the 
little  Jenny  on  your  arm  into  the  street.  The 
milk  and  meal  you  give  the  beggar,  will  fatten 


WORSHIP.  207 

Jenny.  Thrust  the  woman  out,  and  you  thrust 
your  babe  out  of  doors,  whether  it  so  seem  to  you 
or  not.' 

In  the  Shakers,  so  called,  I  find  one  piece  of  be 
lief,  in  the  doctrine  which  they  faithfully  hold,  that 
encourages  them  to  open  their  doors  to  every  way 
faring  man  who  proposes  to  come  among  them ;  for, 
they  say,  the  Spirit  will  presently  manifest  to  the 
man  himself,  and  to  the  society,  what  manner  of 
person  he  is,  and  whether  he  belongs  among  them. 
They  do  not  receive  him,  they  do  not  reject  him. 
And  not  in  vain  have  they  worn  their  clay  coat, 
and  drudged  in  their  fields,  and  shuffled  in  their 
Bruin  dance,  from  year  to  year,  if  they  have  truly 
learned  thus  much  wisdom. 

Honor  him  whose  life  is  perpetual  victory ;  him, 
who,  by  sympathy  with  the  invisible  and  real,  finds 
support  in  labor,  instead  of  praise  ;  who  does  not 
shine,  and  would  rather  not.  With  eyes  open,  he 
makes  the  choice  of  virtue,  which  outrages  the  vir 
tuous  ;  of  religion,  which  churches  stop  their  dis 
cords  to  burn  and  exterminate ;  for  the  highest 
virtue  is  always  against  the  law. 

Miracle  comes  to  the  miraculous,  not  to  the 
arithmetician.  Talent  and  success  interest  me  but 
moderately.  The  great  class,  they  who  affect  our 
imagination,  the  men  who  could  not  make  their 
hands  meet  around  their  objects,  the  rapt,  the 
lost,  the  fools  of  ideas,  —  they  suggest  what  they 


208  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

cannot  execute.  They  speak  to  the  ages,  and 
are  heard  from  afar.  The  Spirit  does  not  love 
cripples  and  malformations.  If  there  ever  was  a 
good  man,  be  certain,  there  was  another,  and  will 
be  more. 

And  so  in  relation  to  that  future  hour,  that  spec 
tre  clothed  with  beauty  at  our  curtain  by  night,  at 
our  table  by  day,  —  the  apprehension,  the  assur 
ance  of  a  coming  change.  The  race  of  mankind 
have  always  offered  at  least  this  implied  thanks  for 
the  gift  of  existence,  —  namely,  the  terror  of  its 
being  taken  away  ;  the  insatiable  curiosity  and  ap 
petite  for  its  continuation.  The  whole  revelation 
that  is  vouchsafed  us,  is,  the  gentle  trust,  which,  in 
our  experience  we  find,  will  cover  also  with  flowers 
the  slopes  of  this  chasm. 

Of  immortality,  the  soul,  when  well  employed,  is 
incurious.  It  is  so  well,  that  it  is  sure  it  will  be 
well.  It  asks  no  questions  of  the  Supreme  Power. 
The  son  of  Antiochus  asked  his  father,  when  he 
would  join  battle  ?  "  Dost  thou  fear,"  replied  the 
King,  "  that  thou  only  in  all  the  army  wilt  not  hear 
the  trumpet  ?"  'Tis  a  higher  thing  to  confide,  that, 
if  it  is  best  we  should  live,  we  shall  live,  —  'tis 
higher  to  have  this  conviction,  than  to  have  the 
lease  of  indefinite  centuries  and  millenniums  and 
aeons.  Higher  than  the  question  of  our  duration  is 
the  question  of  our  deserving.  Immortality  will 
come  to  such  as  are  fit  for  it,  and  he  who  would  be 


WORSHIP.  200 

a  great  soul  in  future,  must  be  a  great  soul  now. 
It  is  a  doctrine  too  great  to  rest  on  any  legend,  that 
is,  on  any  man's  experience  but  our  own.  It  must 
be  proved,  if  at  all,  from  our  own  activity  and  de 
signs,  which  imply  an  interminable  future  for  their 
play. 

What  is  called  religion  effeminates  and  demoral 
izes.  Such  as  you  are,  the  gods  themselves  could 
not  help  you.  Men  are  too  often  unfit  to  live,  from 
their  obvious  inequality  to  their  own  necessities,  or, 
they  suffer  from  politics,  or  bad  neighbors,  or  from 
sickness,  and  they  would  gladly  know  that  they 
were  to  be  dismissed  from  the  duties  of  life.  But 
the  wise  instinct  asks,  '  How  will  death  help  them  ? ' 
These  are  not  dismissed  when  they  die.  You  shall 
not  wish  for  death  out  of  pusillanimity.  The  weight 
of  the  Universe  is  pressed  down  on  the  shoulders  of 
each  moral  agent  to  hold  him  to  his  task.  The 
only  path  of  escape  known  in  all  the  worlds  of  God 
is  performance.  You  must  do  your  work,  before 
you  shall  be  released.  And  as  far  as  it  is  a  ques 
tion  of  fact  respecting  the  government  of  the  Uni 
verse,  Marcus  Antoninus  summed  the  whole  in  a 
word,  "  It  is  pleasant  to  die,  if  there  be  gods  ;  and 
sad  to  live,  if  there  be  none." 

And  so  I  think  that  the  last  lesson  of  life,  the 
choral  song  which  rises  from  all  elements  and  all 
angels,  is,  a  voluntary  obedience,  a  necessitated  free 
dom.  Man  is  made  of  the  same  atoms  as  the  world 


210  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

is,  he  shares  the  same  impressions,  predispositions, 
and  destiny.  When  his  mind  is  illuminated,  when 
his  heart  is  kind,  he  throws  himself  joyfully  into 
the  sublime  order,  and  does,  with  knowledge,  what 
the  stones  do  by  structure. 

The  religion  which  is  to  guide  and  fulfil  the  presr_ 
ent  and  coming  ages,  whatever  else  it  be,  must  be 
intellectual.  The  scientific  mind  must  have  a  faith 
which  is  science.  "  There  are  two  things,"  said 
Mahomet,  "  which  I  abhor,  the  learned  in  his  infi 
delities,  and  the  fool  in  his  devotions."  Our  times 
are  impatient  of  both,  and  specially  of  the  last. 
Let  us  have  nothing  now  which  is  not  its  own  evi 
dence.  There  is  surely  enough  for  the  heart  and 
imagination  in  the  religion  itself.  Let  us  not  be 
pestered  with  assertions  and  half-truths,  with  emo 
tions  and  snuffle. 

There  will  be  a  new  church  founded  on  moral 
science,  at  first  cold  and  naked,  a  babe  in  a  manger 
again,  the  algebra  and  mathematics  of  ethical  law, 
the  church  of  men  to  come,  without  shawms,  or 
psaltery,  or  sackbut ;  but  it  will  have  heaven  and 
earth  for  its  beams  and  rafters  ;  science  for  symbol 
and  illustration ;  it  will  fast  enough  gather  beauty, 
music,  picture,  poetry.  Was  never  stoicism  so 
stern  and  exigent  as  this  shall  be.  It  shall  send 
man  home  to  his  central  solitude,  shame  these  social, 
supplicating  manners,  and  make  him  know  that 
much  of  the  time  he  must  have  himself  to  his 


WORSHIP.  211 

friend.  He  shall  expect  no  cooperation,  he  shall 
walk  with  no  companion.  The  nameless  Thought, 
the  nameless  Power,  the  superpersonal  Heart,  —  he 
shall  repose  alone  on  that.  He  needs  only  his  own 
verdict.  No  good  fame  can  help,  no  bad  fame  can 
hurt  him.  The  Laws  are  his  consolers,  the  good 
Laws  themselves  are  alive,  they  know  if  he  hav% 
kept  them,  they  animate  him  with  the  leading  of 
great  duty,  and  an  endless  horizon.  Honor_^md» 
fortune  exist  to  him  who  always  recognizes., the 
neighborhood  of  the  great,  always  feels,  himself  k 
the  presence  of  high  causes. 


VII. 
CONSIDERATIONS   BY   THE  WAY 


HEAR  what  British  Merlin  sung, 

Of  keenest  eye  and  truest  tongue. 

Say  not,  the  chiefs  who  first  arrive 

Usurp  the  seats  for  which  all  strive  ; 

The  forefathers  this  land  who  found 

Failed  to  plant  the  vantage-ground ; 

Ever  from  one  who  comes  to-morrow 

Men  wait  their  good  and  truth  to  borrow. 

But  wilt  thou  measure  all  thy  road, 

See  thou  lift  the  lightest  load. 

Who  has  little,  to  him  who  has  less,  can  spare, 

And  thou,  Cyndyllan's  son  !   beware 

Ponderous  gold  and  stuffs  to  bear, 

To  falter  ere  thou  thy  task  fulfil,  — 

Only  the  light-armed  climb  the  hill. 

The  richest  of  all  lords  is  Use, 

And  ruddy  Health  the  loftiest  Muse. 

Live  in  the  sunshine,  swim  the  sea, 

Drink  the  wild  air's  salubrity  : 

Where  the  star  Canope  shines  in  May, 

Shepherds  are  thankful,  and  nations  gay. 

The  music  that  can  deepest  reach, 

And  cure  all  ill,  is  cordial  speech : 

Mask  thy  wisdom  with  delight, 

Toy  with  the  bow,  yet  hit  the  white. 

Of  all  wit's  uses,  the  main  one 

Is  to  live  well  with  who  has  none. 

Cleave  to  thine  acre  ;  the  round  year 

Will  fetch  all  fruits  and  virtues  here : 

Fool  and  foe  may  harmless  roam, 

Loved,  and  lovers  bide  at  home. 

A  day  for  toil,  an  hour  for  sport, 

But  for  a  friend  is  life  too  short. 


CONSIDERATIONS   BY   THE   WAY. 

ALTHOUGH  this  garrulity  of  advising  is  born  with 
us,  I  confess  that  life  is  rather  a  subject  of  wonder, 
than  of  didactics.  So  much  fate,  so  much  irresist 
ible  dictation  from  temperament  and  unknown  in 
spiration  enters  into  it,  that  we  doubt  we  can  say 
anything  out  of  our  own  experience  whereby  to 
help  each  other.  All  the  professions  are  timid 
and  expectant  agencies.  The  priest  is  glad  if  his 
prayers  or  his  sermon  meet  the  condition  of  any 
soul  ;  if  of  two,  if  of  ten,  'tis  a  signal  success.  But 
he  walked  to  the  church  without  any  assurance 
that  he  knew  the  distemper,  or  could  heal  it.  The 
physician  prescribes  hesitatingly  out  of  his  few  re 
sources,  the  same  tonic  or  sedative  to  this  new  and 
peculiar  constitution,  which  he  has  applied  with 
various  success  to  a  hundred  men  before.  If  the 
patient  mends,  he  is  glad  and  surprised.  The  law 
yer  advises  the  client,  and  tells  his  story  to  the  jury, 
and  leaves  it  with  them,  and  is  as  gay  and  as  much 
relieved  as  the  client,  if  it  turns  out  that  he  has 
a  verdict.  The  judge  weighs  the  arguments,  and 
puts  a  brave  face  on  the  matter,  and,  since  there 


216  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

must  be  a  decision,  decides  as  he  can,  and  hopes  he 
has  done  justice,  and  given  satisfaction  to  the  com 
munity  ;  but  is  only  an  advocate  after  all.  And 
so  is  all  life  a  timid  and  unskilful  spectator.  We 
do  what  we  must,  and  call  it  by  the  best  names. 
We  like  very  well  to  be  praised  for  our  action, 
'but  our  conscience  says,  "  Not  unto  us."  'Tis 
little  we  can  do  for  each  other.  We  accompany 
the  youth  with  sympathy,  and  manifold  old  sayings 
of  the  wise,  to  the  gate  of  the  arena,  but  'tis  cer 
tain  that  not  by  strength  of  ours,  or  of  the  old  say 
ings,  but  only  on  strength  of  his  own,  unknown  to 
TIS  or  to  any,  he  must  stand  or  fall.  That  by  which 
a  man  conquers  in  any  passage,  is  a  profound  secret 
to  every  other  being  in  the  world,  and  it  is  only  as 
he  turns  his  back  on  us  and  on  all  men,  and  draws 
on  this  most  private  wisdom,  that  any  good  can 
come  to  him.  What  we  have,  therefore,  to  say  of 
life,  is  rather  description,  or,  if  you  please,  cele 
bration,  than  available  rules. 

Yet  vigor  is  contagious,  and  whatever  makes  us 
either  think  or  feel  strongly,  adds  to  our  power,  and 
enlarges  our  field  of  action.  We  have  a  debt  to 
every  great  heart,  to-  every  fine  genius ;  to  those 
who  have  put  life  and  fortune  on  the  cast  of  an  act 
of  justice ;  to  those  who  have  added  new  sciences ; 
to  those  who  have  refined  life  by  elegant  pursuits. 
'Tis  the  fine  souls  who  serve  us,  and  not  what  is 
called  fine  society.  Fine  society  is  only  a  self- 


CONSIDERATIONS   BY  THE   WAY.  217 

protection  against  the  vulgarities  of  the  street  and 
the  tavern.  Fine  society,  in  the  common  accepta 
tion,  has  neither  ideas  nor  aims.  It  renders  the 
service  of  a  perfumery,  or  a  laundry,  not  of  a 
farm  or  factory.  'Tis  an  exclusion  and  a  precinct. 
Sidney  Smith  said,  "  A  few  yards  in  London  ce 
ment  or  dissolve  friendship."  It  is  an  unprincipled 
decorum  ;  an  affair  of  clean  linen  and  coaches,  of 
gloves,  cards,  and  elegance  in  trifles.  There  are 
other  measures  of  self-respect  for  a  man,  than  the 
number  of  clean  shirts  he  puts  on  every  day.  So 
ciety  wishes  to  be  amused.  I  do  not  wish  to  be 
amused.  I  wish  that  life  should  not  be  cheap,  but 
sacred.  I  wish  the  days  to  be  as  centuries,  loaded, 
fragrant.  Now  we  reckon  them  as  bank-days,  by 
some  debt  which  is  to  be  paid  us,  or  which  we  are 
to  pay,  or  some  pleasure  we  are  to  taste.  Is  all  we 
have  to  do  to  draw  the  breath  in,  and  blow  it  out 
again  ?  Porphyry's  definition  is  better  ;  "  Life  is 
that  which  holds  matter  together."  The  babe  in 
arms  is  a  channel  through  which  the  energies  we 
call  fate,  love,  and  reason,  visibly  stream.  See 
what  a  cometary  train  of  auxiliaries  man  carries 
with  him,  of  animals,  plants,  stones,  gases,  and  im 
ponderable  elements.  Let  us  infer  his  ends  from 
this  pomp  of  means.  Mirabeau  said,  "  Why  should 
we  feel  ourselves  to  be  men,  unless  it  be  to  succeed 
in  everything,  everywhere.  You  must  say  of  noth 
ing,  That  is  beneath  me,  nor  feel  that  anything  can 
10 


218  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

be  out  of  your  power.  Nothing  is  impossible  to 
the  man  who  can  will.  Is  that  necessary  f  That 
shall  be:  —  this  is  the  only  law  of  success."  Who 
ever  said  it,  this  is  in  the  right  key.  But  this  is 
not  the  tone  and  genius  of  the  men  in  the  street. 
In  the  streets,  we  grow  cynical.  The  men  we 
meet  are  coarse  and  torpid.  The  finest  wits 
have  their  sediment.  What  quantities  of  fribbles, 
paupers,  invalids,  epicures,  antiquaries,  politicians, 
thieves,  and  triflers  of  both  sexes,  might  be  advan 
tageously  spared  !  Mankind  divides  itself  into  two 
classes,  —  benefactors  and  malefactors.  The  second 
class  is  vast,  the  first  a  handful.  A  person  seldom 
falls  sick,  but  the  bystanders  are  animated  with  a 
faint  hope  that  he  will  die  :  —  quantities  of  poor 
lives  ;  of  distressing  invalids  ;  of  cases  for  a  gun. 
Franklin  said,  "  Mankind  are  very  superficial  and 
dastardly :  they  begin  upon  a  thing,  but,  meeting 
with  a  difficulty,  they  fly  from  it  discouraged :  but 
they  have  capacities,  if  they  would  employ  them." 
Shall  we  then  judge  a  country  by  the  majority, 
or  by  the  minority  ?  By  the  minority,  surely. 
'Tis  pedantry  to  estimate  nations  by  the  census,  or 
by  square  miles  of  land,  01*  other  than  by  their  im 
portance  to  the  mind  of  the  time. 

Leave  this  hypocritical  prating  about  the  masses. 
Masses  are  rude,  lame,  unmade,  pernicious  in  their 
demands  and  influence,  and  need  not  to  be  flattered 
but  to  be  schooled.  I  wish  not  to  concede  any- 


CONSIDERATIONS   BY   THE   WAY.  219 

thing  to  them,  but  to  tame,  drill,  divide,  and  break 
them  up,  and  draw  individuals  out  of  them.  The 
worst  of  charity  is,  that  the  lives  you  are  asked  to 
preserve  are  not  worth  preserving.  Masses  !  the 
calamity  is  the  masses.  I  do  not  wish  any  mass 
at  all,  but  honest  men  only,  lovely,  sweet,  accom 
plished  women  only,  and  no  shovel-handed,  nar 
row-brained,  gin-drinking  million  stockingers  or 
lazzaroni  at  all.  If  government  knew  how,  I 
should  like  to  see  it  check,  not  multiply  the  pop 
ulation.  When  it  reaches  its  true  law  of  action, 
every  man  that  is  born  will  be  hailed  as  essential. 
Away  with  this  hurrah  of  masses,  and  let  us  have 
the  considerate  vote  of  single  men  spoken  on  their 
honor  and  their  conscience.  In  old  Egypt,  it  was 
established  law,  that  the  vote  of  a  prophet  be  reck 
oned  equal  to  a  hundred  hands.  I '  think  it  was 
much  under-estimated.  "  Clay  and  clay  differ  in 
dignity,"  as  we  discover  by  our  preferences  every 
day.  What  a  vicious  practice  is  this  of  our  poli 
ticians  at  Washington  pairing  off!  as  if  one  man 
who  votes  wrong,  going  away,  could  excuse  you, 
who  mean  to  vote  right,  for  going  away ;  or,  as 
if  your  presence  did  not  tell  in  more  ways  than 
in  your  vote.  Suppose  the  three  hundred  he 
roes  at  Thermopyla3  had  paired  off  with  three 
hundred  Persians  :  would  it  have  been  all  the 
same  to  Greece,  and  to  history  ?  Napoleon  was 
called  by  his  men  Cent  Mille.  Add  honesty  to 


220  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

him,  and   they   might   have   called   him   Hundred 
Million. 

Nature  makes  fifty  poor  melons  for  one  that 
is  good,  and  shakes  down  a  tree  full  of  gnarled, 
wormy,  unripe  crabs,  before  you  can  find  a  dozen 
dessert  apples  ;  and  she  scatters  nations  of  naked 
Indians,  and  nations  of  clothed  Christians,  with  two 
or  three  good  heads  among  them.  Nature  works 
very  hard,  and  only  hits  the  white  once  in  a  million 
throws.  In  mankind,  she  is  contented  if  she  yields 
one  master  in  a  century.  The  more  difficulty  there 
is  in  creating  good  men,  the  more  they  are  used 
when  they  come.  I  once  counted  in  a  little  neigh 
borhood,  and  found  that  every  able-bodied  man 
had,  say  from  twelve  to  fifteen  persons  dependent 
on  him  for  material  aid,  —  to  whom  he  is  to  be  for 
spoon  and  jug,  for  backer  and  sponsor,  for  nursery 
and  hospital,  and  many  functions  beside  :  nor  does 
it  seem  to  make  much  difference  whether  he  is 
bachelor  or  patriarch  ;  if  he  do  not  violently  decline 
the  duties  that  fall  to  him,  this  amount  of  helpful 
ness  will  in  one  way  or  another  be  brought  home  to 
him.  This  is  the  tax  which  his  abilities  pay.  The 
good  men  are  employed  for  private  centres  of  use, 
and  for  larger  influence.  All  revelations,  whether 
of  mechanical  or  intellectual  or  moral  science,  are 
made  not  to  communities,  but  to  single  persons. 
All  the  marked  events  of  our  day,  all  the  cities,  all 
the  colonizations,  may  be  traced  back  to  their  origin 


CONSIDERATIONS  BY  THE  WAY.  221 

in  a  private  brain.  All  the  feats  which  make  our 
civility  were  the  thoughts  of  a  few  good  heads. 

Meantime,  this  spawning  productivity  is  not  nox 
ious  or  needless.  You  would  say,  this  rabble  of 
nations  might  be  spared.  But  no,  they  are  all 
counted  and  depended  on.  Fate  keeps  everything 
alive  so  long  as  the  smallest  thread  of  public 
necessity  holds  it  on  to  the  tree.  The  coxcomb 
and  bully  and  thief  class  are  allowed  as  proletaries, 
every  one  of  their  vices  being  the  excess  or  acridity 
of  a  virtue.  The  mass  are  animal,  in  pupilage,  and 
near  chimpanzee.  But  the  units,  whereof  this  mass 
is  composed  are  neuters,  every  one  of  which  may 
be  grown  to  a  queen-bee.  The  rule  is,  we  are 
used  as  brute  atoms,  until  we  think:  then,  we 
use  all  the  rest.  Nature  turns  all  malfaisance  to 
good.  Nature  provided  for  real  needs.  No  sane 
man  at  last  distrusts  himself.  His  existence  is  a 
perfect  answer  to  all  sentimental  cavils.  If  he  is, 
he  is  wanted,  and  has  the  precise  properties  that 
are  required.  That  we  are  here,  is  proof  we  ought 
to  be  here.  We  have  as  good  right,  and  the  same 
sort  of  right  to  be  here,  as  Cape  Cod  or  Sandy 
Hook  have  to  be  there. 

To  say  then,  the  majority  are  wicked,  means  no 
malice,  no  bad  heart  in  the  observer,  but,  simply, 
that  the  majority  are  unripe,  and  have  not  yet 
come  to  themselves,  do  not  yet  know  their  opinion. 
That,  if  they  knew  it,  is  an  oracle  for  them  and  for 


222  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

all.  But  in  the  passing  moment,  the  quadruped  in 
terest  is  very  prone  to  prevail :  and  this  beast-force, 
whilst  it  makes  the  discipline  of  the  world,  the 
school  of  heroes,  the  glory  of  martyrs,  has  pro 
voked,  in  every  age,  the  satire  of  wits,  and  the  tears 
of  good  men.  They  find  the  journals,  the  clubs,  the 
governments,  the  churches,  to  be  in  the  interest,  and 
the  pay  of  the  devil.  And  wise  men  have  met  this 
obstruction  in  their  times,  like  Socrates,  with  his 
famous  irony ;  like  Bacon,  with  life-long  dissimula 
tion  ;  like  Erasmus,  with  his  book  "  The  Praise  of 
Folly ; "  like  Rabelais,  with  his  satire  rending  the 
nations.  "  They  were  the  fools  who  cried  against 
me,  you  will  say,"  wrote  the  Chevalier  de  Boufflers 
to  Grimm ;  "  aye,  but  the  fools  have  the  advantage 
of  numbers,  and  'tis  that  which  decides.  'Tis  of 
no  use  for  us  to  make  war  with  them  ;  we  shall  not 
weaken  them  ;  they  will  always  be  the  masters. 
There  will  not  be  a  practice  or  an  usage  introduced, 
of  which  they  are  not  the  authors." 

In  front  of  these  sinister  facts,  the  first  lesson  of 
history  is  the  good  of  evil.  Good  is  a  good  doctor, 
but  Bad  is  sometimes  a  better.  'Tis  the  oppres 
sions  of  William  the  Norman,  savage  forest-laws, 
and  crushing  despotism,  that  made  possible  the  in 
spirations  of  Magna  Charta  under  John.  Edward  I. 
wanted  money,  armies,  castles,  and  as  much  as  he 
could  get.  It  was  necessary  to  call  the  people  to 
gether  by  shorter,  swifter  ways,  —  and  the  House 


CONSIDERATIONS   BY  THE   WAY.  223 

of  Commons  arose.  To  obtain  subsidies,  lie  paid 
in  privileges.  In  the  twenty-fourth  year  of  his 
reign,  he  decreed,  "  that  no  tax  should  be  lev 
ied  without  consent  of  Lords  and  Commons;"  — 
which  is  the  basis  of  the  English  Constitution. 
Plutarch  affirms  that  the  cruel  wars  which  fol 
lowed  the  march  of  Alexander,  introduced  the 
civility,  language,  and  arts  of  Greece  into  the 
savage  East ;  introduced  marriage ;  built  seventy 
cities  ;  and  united  hostile  nations  under  one  gov 
ernment.  The  barbarians  who  broke  up  the 
Roman  empire  did  not  arrive  a  day  too  soon. 
Schiller  says,  the  Thirty  Years'  War  made  Ger 
many  a  nation.  Rough,  selfish  despots  serve  men 
immensely,  as  Henry  VIII.  in  the  contest  with  the 
Pope ;  as  the  infatuations  no  less  than  the  wisdom 
of  Cromwell ;  as  the  ferocity  of  the  Russian  czars ; 
as  the  fanaticism  of  the  French  regicides  of  1789. 
The  frost  which  kills  the  harvest  of  a  year,  saves 
the  harvests  of  a  century,  by  destroying  the  weevil 
or  the  locust.  Wars,  fires,  plagues,  break  up  im 
movable  routine,  clear  the  ground  of  rotten  races 
and  dens  of  distemper,  and  open  a  fair  field  to 
new  men.  There  is  a  tendency  in  things  to  right 
themselves,  and  the  war  or  revolution  or  bank 
ruptcy  that  shatters  a  rotten  system,  allows  things 
to  take  a  new  and  natural  order.  The  sharpest 
evils  are  bent  into  that  periodicity  which  makes  the 
errors  of  planets,  and  the  fevers  and  distempers 


224  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

of  men,  self-limiting.  Nature  is  upheld  by  antag 
onism.  Passions,  resistance,  danger,  are  educators. 
We  acquire  the  strength  we  have  overcome.  With 
out  war,  no  soldier  ;  without  enemies,  no  hero. 
The  sun  were  insipid,  if  the  universe  were  not 
opaque.  And  the  glory  of  character  is  in  affront 
ing  the  horrors  of  depravity,  to  draw  thence  new 
nobilities  of  power  :  as  Art  lives  and  thrills  in 
new  use  and  combining  of  contrasts,  and  mining 
into  the  dark  evermore  for  blacker  pits  of  night. 
What  would  painter  do,  or  what  would  poet  or 
saint,  but  for  crucifixions  and  hells  ?  And  ever 
more  in  the  world  is  this  marvellous  balance  of 
beauty  and  disgust,  magnificence  and  rats.  Not 
Antoninus,  but  a  poor  washer- woman  said,  "  The 
more  trouble,  the  more  lion ;  that's  my  principle." 
I  do  not  think  very  respectfully  of  the  designs  or 
the  doings  of  the  people  who  went  to  California,  in 
1849.  It  was  a  rush  and  a  scramble  of  needy  ad 
venturers,  and,  in  the  western  country,  a  general 
jail-delivery  of  all  the  rowrdies  of  the  rivers.  Some 
of  them  went  with  honest  purposes,  some  with  very 
bad  ones,  and  all  of  them  with  the  very  common 
place  wish  to  find  a  short  way  to  wealth.  But 
Nature  watches  over  all,  and  turns  this  malfaisance 
to  good.  California  gets  peopled  and  subdued, — 
civilized  in  this  immoral  way,  —  and,  on  this  fiction, 
a  real  prosperity  is  rooted  and  grown.  'Tis  a  de 
coy-duck  ;  'tis  tubs  thrown  to  amuse  the  whale  : 


CONSIDERATIONS   BY  THE   WAY.  225 

but  real  ducks,  and  whales  that  yield  oil,  are 
caught.  And,  out  of  Sabine  rapes,  and  out  of 
robbers'  forays,  real  Romes  and  their  heroisms 
come  in  fulness  of  time. 

In  America,  the  geography  is  sublime,  but  the 
men  are  not :  the  inventions  are  excellent,  but  the 
inventors  one  is  sometimes  ashamed  of.  The  ao-en- 

o 

cies  by  which  events  so  grand  as  the  opening  of 
California,  of  Texas,  of  Oregon,  and  the  junction 
of  the  two  oceans,  are  effected,  are  paltry,  —  coarse 
selfishness,  fraud,  and  conspiracy  :  and  most  of  the 
great  results  of  history  are  brought  about  by  dis 
creditable  means. 

The  benefaction  derived  in  Illinois,  and  the  great 
West,  from  railroads  is  inestimable,  and  vastly  ex 
ceeding  any  intentional  philanthropy  on  record. 
What  is  the  benefit  done  by  a  good  King  Alfred, 
or  by  a  Howard,  or  Pestalozzi,  or  Elizabeth  Fry, 
or  Florence  Nightingale,  or  any  lover,  less  or 
larger,  compared  with  the  involuntary  blessing 
wrought  on  nations  by  the  selfish  capitalists  who 
built  the  Illinois,  Michigan,  and  the  network  of  the 
Mississippi  valley  roads,  which  have  evoked  not 
only  all  the  wealth  of  the  soil,  but  the  energy  of 
millions  of  men.  'Tis  a  sentence  of  ancient  wis 
dom,  "that  God  hangs  the  greatest  weights  on  the 
smallest  wires." 

What  happens  thus  to  nations,  befalls  every  day 
in  private  houses.  When  the  friends  of  a  gentle- 
10* 


226  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

man  brought  to  his  notice  the  follies  of  his  sons, 
with  many  hints  of  their  danger,  he  replied,  that  he 
knew  so  much  mischief  when  he  was  a  boy,  and 
had  turned  out  on  the  whole  so  successfully,  that 
he  was  not  alarmed  by  the  dissipation  of  boys  ; 
'twas  dangerous  water,  but,  he  thought,  they  would 
soon  touch  bottom,  and  then  swim  to  the  top. 
This  is  bold  practice,  and  there  are  many  failures 
to  a  good  escape.  Yet  one  would  say,  that  a 
good  understanding  would  suffice  as  well  as  moral 
sensibility  to  keep  one  erect ;  the  gratifications  of 
the  passions  are  so  quickly  seen  to  be  damaging, 
and,  —  what  men  like  least,  —  seriously  lowering 
them  in  social  rank.  Then  all  talent  sinks  with 
character. 

"  Croyez  moi,  Terreur  aussi  a  son  merite,"  said 
Voltaire.  We  see  those  who  surmount,  by  dint  of 
some  egotism  or  infatuation-,  obstacles  from  which 
the  prudent  recoil.  The  right  partisan  is  a  heady 
narrow  man,  who,  because  he  does  not  see  many 
things,  sees  some  one  thing  with  heat  and  exaggera 
tion,  and,  if  he  falls  among  other  narrow  men,  or 
on  objects  which  have  a  brief  importance,  as  some 
trade  or  politics  of  the  hour,  he  prefers  it  to  the 
universe,  and  seems  inspired,  and  a  godsend  to 
those  who  wish  to  magnify  the  matter,  and  carry 
a  point.  Better,  certainly,  if  we  could  secure  the 
strength  and  fire  which  rude,  passionate  men  bring 
into  society,  quite  clear  of  their  vices.  But  who 


CONSIDERATIONS   BY  THE   WAY.  227 

dares  draw  out  the  linchpin  from  the  wagon- 
wheel  ?  'Tis  so  manifest,  that  there  is  no  moral 
deformity,  but  is  a  good  passion  out  of  place  ; 
that  there  is  no  man  who  is  not  indebted  to  his 
foibles  ;  that,  according  to  the  old  oracle,  "  the 
Furies  are  the  bonds  of  men  ;  "  that  the  poisons 
are  our  principal  medicines,  which  kill  the  dis 
ease,  and  save  the  life.  In  the  high  prophetic 
phrase,  He  causes  the  wrath  of  man  to  praise  him, 
and  twists  and  wrenches  our  evil  to  our  good. 
Shakspeare  wrote,  — 

'"Tis  said,  best  men  are  moulded  of  their  faults;" 

and  great  educators  and  lawgivers,  and  especially 
generals,  and  leaders  of  colonies,  mainly  rely  on 
this  stuff,  and  esteem  men  of  irregular  and  pas 
sional  force  the  best  timber.  A  man  of  sense  and 
energy,  the  late  head  of  the  Farm  School  in  Boston 
harbor,  said  to  me,  "  I  want  none  of  your  good 
boys, —  give  me  the  bad  ones."  And  this  is  the 
reason,  I  suppose,  why,  as  soon  as  the  children  are 
good,  the  mothers  are  scared,  and  think  they  are 
going  to  die.  Mirabeau  said,  "  There  are  none  but 
men  of  strong  passions  capable  of  going  to  great 
ness  ;  none  but  such  capable  of  meriting  the  public 
gratitude."  Passion,  though  a  bad  regulator,  is  a 
powerful  spring.  Any  absorbing  passion  has  the 
effect  to  deliver  from  the  little  coils  and  cares  of 
every  day :  'tis  the  heat  which  sets  our  human 


CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

atoms  spinning,  overcomes  the  friction  of  crossing 
thresholds,  and  first  addresses  in  society,  and  o-ives 
us  a  good  start  and  speed,  easy  to  continue,  when 
once  it  is  begun.  In  short,  there  is  no  man  who 
is  not  at  some  time  indebted  to  his  vices,  as  no 
plant  that  is  not  fed  from  manures.  We  only 
insist  that  the  man  meliorate,  and  that  the  plant 
grow  upward,  and  convert  the  base  into  the  better 
nature. 

The  wise  workman  will  not  regret  the  poverty  or 
the  solitude  which  brought  out  his  working  talents. 
The  youth  is  charmed  with  the  fine  air  and  accom 
plishments  of  the  children  of  fortune.  But  all  great 
men  come  out  of  the  middle  classes.  'Tis  better 
for  the  head;  'tis  better  for  the  heart.  Marcus 
Antoninus  says,  that  Fronto  told  him,  "  that  the  so- 
called  high-born  are  for  the  most  part  heartless  ;  " 
whilst  nothing  is  so  indicative  of  deepest  culture  as 
a  tender  consideration  of  the  ignorant.  Charles 
James  Fox  said  of  England,  "  The  history  of  this 
country  proves,  that  we  are  not  to  expect  from  men 
in  affluent  circumstances  the  vigilance,  energy,  and 
exertion  without  which  the  House  of  Commons 
would  lose  its  greatest  force  and  weight.  Human 
nature  is  prone  to  indulgence,  and  the  most  merito 
rious  public  services  have  always  been  performed 
by  persons  in  a  condition  of  life  removed  from  opu 
lence."  And  yet  what  we  ask  daily,  is  to  be  con 
ventional.  Supply,  most  kind  gods  !  this  defect  in 


CONSIDERATIONS   BY   THE   WAY.  229 

mj  address,  in  my  form,  in  my  fortunes,  which  puts 
me  a  little  out  of  the  ring :  supply  it,  and  let  me  be 
like  the  rest  whom  I  admire,  and  on  good  terms 
with  them.  But  the  wise  gods  say,  No,  we  have 
better  things  for  thee.  By  humiliations,  by  defeats, 
by  loss  of  sympathy,  by  gulfs  of  disparity,  learn  a 
wider  truth  and  humanity  than  that  of  a  fine  gen 
tleman.  A  Fifth- A  venue  landlord,  a  West-End 
householder,  is  not  the  highest  style  of  man  :  and, 
though  good  hearts  and  sound  minds  are  of  no  con 
dition,  yet  he  who  is  to  be  wise  for  many,  must  not 
be  protected.  He  must  know  the  huts  where  poor 
men  lie,  and  the  chores  which  poor  men  do.  The 
first-class  minds,  JEsop,  Socrates,  Cervantes,  Shak- 
speare,  Franklin,  had  the  poor  man's  feeling  and 
mortification.  A  rich  man  was  never  insulted  in 
his  life  :  but  this  man  must  be  stung;.  A  rich  man 

O 

was  never  in  danger  from  cold,  or  hunger,  or  war, 
or  ruffians,  and  you  can  see  he  was  not,  from  the 
moderation  of  his  ideas.  'Tis  a  fatal  disadvantage 
to  be  cockered,  and  to  eat  too  much  cake.  What 
tests  of  manhood  could  he  stand  ?  Take  him  out  of 
his  protections.  He  is  a  good  book-keeper;  or  he  is 
a  shrewd  adviser  in  the  insurance  office  :  perhaps 
he  could  pass  a  college  examination,  and  take  his 
degrees  :  perhaps  he  can  give  wise  counsel  in  a 
court  of  law.  Now  plant  him  down  among  far 
mers,  firemen,  Indians,  and  emigrants.  Set  a  dog 
on  him  :  set  a  highwayman  on  him  :  try  him  with 


230  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

a  course  of  mobs  :  send  him  to  Kansas,  to  Pike's 
Peak,  to  Oregon  :  and,  if  he  have  true  faculty, 
this  may  he  the  element  he  wants,  and  he  will  come 
out  of  it  with  broader  wisdom  and  manly  power. 
-ZEsop,  Saadi,  Cervantes,  Regnard,  have  been  taken 
by  corsairs,  left  for  dead,  sold  for  slaves,  and  know 
the  realities  of  human  life. 

Bad  times  have  a  scientific  value.  These  are 
occasions  a  good  learner  would  not  miss.  As  we 
go  gladly  to  Faneuil  Hall,  to  be  played  upon  by  the 
stormy  winds  and  strong  fingers  of  enraged  patriot 
ism,  so  is  a  fanatical  persecution,  civil  war,  na 
tional  bankruptcy,  or  revolution,  more  rich  in  the 
central  tones  than  languid  years  of  prosperity. 
What  had  been,  ever  since  our  memory,  solid 
continent,  yawns  apart,  and  discloses  its  compo 
sition  and  genesis.  We  learn  geology  the  morning 
after  the  earthquake,  on  ghastly  diagrams  of  cloven 
mountains,  upheaved  plains,  and  the  dry  bed  of  the 
sea. 

In  our  life  and  culture,  everything  is  worked 
up,  and  comes  in  use,  —  passion,  war,  revolt,  bank 
ruptcy,  and  not  less,  folly  and  blunders,  insult,  en 
nui,  and  bad  company.  Nature  is  a  rag-merchant, 
who  works  up  every  shred  and  ort  and  end  into 
new  creations  ;  like  a  good  chemist,  whom  I  found, 
the  other  day,  in  his  laboratory,  converting  his  old 
shirts  into  pure  white  sugar.  Life  is  a  boundless 
privilege,  and  when  you  pay  for  your  ticket,  and 


CONSIDERATIONS   BY  THE  WAY.  231 

get  into  the  car,  you  have  no  guess  what  good  com 
pany  you  shall  find  there.  You  buy  much  that  is 
not  rendered  in  the  bill.  Men  achieve  a  certain 
greatness  unawares,  when  working  to  another  aim. 
If  now  in  this  connection  of  discourse,  we  should 
venture  on  laying  down  the  first  obvious  rules  of 
life,  I  will  not  here  repeat  the  first  rule  of  economy, 
already  propounded  once  and  again,  that  every 
man  shall  maintain  himself,  —  but  I  will  say,  get 
health.  No  labor,  pains,  temperance,  poverty,  nor 
exercise,  that  can  gain  it,  must  be  grudged.  For 
sickness  is  a  cannibal  which  eats  up  all  the  life 
and  youth  it  can  lay  hold  of,  and  absorbs  its  own 
sons  and  daughters.  I  figure  it  as  a  pale,  wailing, 
distracted  phantom,  absolutely  selfish,  heedless  of 
what  is  good  and  great,  attentive  to  its  sensa 
tions,  losing  its  soul,  and  afflicting  other  souls  with 
meanness  and  mopings,  and  with  ministration  to 
its  voracity  of  trifles.  Dr.  Johnson  said  severely, 
"Every  man  is  a  rascal  as  soon  as  he  is  sick." 
Drop  the  cant,  and  treat  it  sanely.  In  dealing 
with  the  drunken,  we  do  not  affect  to  be  drunk. 
We  must  treat  the  sick  with  the  same  firmness, 
giving  them,  of  course,  every  aid,  —  but  withhold 
ing  ourselves.  I  once  asked  a  clergyman  in  a 
retired  town,  who  were  his  companions  ?  what 
men  of  ability  he  saw  ?  he  replied,  that  he  spent 
his  time  with  the  sick  and  the  dying.  I  said,  he 
seemed  to  me  to  need  quite  other  company,  and  all 


232  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

the  more  that  he  had  this  :  for  if  people  were  sick 
and  dying  to  any  purpose,  we  would  leave  all  and 
go  to  them,  but,  as  far  as  I  had  observed,  they  were 
as  frivolous  as  the  rest,  and  sometimes  much  more 
frivolous.  Let  us  engage  our  companions  not  to 
spare  us.  I  knew  a  wise  woman  who  said  to  her 
friends,  "  When  I  am  old,  rule  me."  And  the 
best  part  of  health  is  fine  disposition.  It  is  more 
essential  than  talent,  even  in  the  works  of  tal 
ent.  Nothing  will  supply  the  want  of  sunshine 
to  peaches,  and,  to  make  knowledge  valuable,  you 
must  have  the  cheerfulness  of  wisdom.  Whenever 
you  are  sincerely  pleased,  you  are  nourished.  The 
joy  of  the  spirit  indicates  its  strength.  All  healthy 
things  are  sweet-tempered.  Genius  works  in  sport, 
and  goodness  smiles  to  the  last ;  and,  for  the  rea 
son,  that  whoever  sees  the  law  which  distributes 
things,  does  not  despond,  but  is  animated  to  great 
desires  and  endeavors.  He  who  desponds  betrays 
that  he  has  not  seen  it. 

'Tis  a  Dutch  proverb,  that  "paint  costs  nothing," 
such  are  its  preserving  qualities  in  damp  climates. 
Well,  sunshine  costs  less,  yet  is  finer  pigment.  And 
so  of  cheerfulness,  or  a  good  temper,  the  more  it  is 
spent,  the  more  of  it  remains.  The  latent  heat  of 
an  ounce  of  wood  or  stone  is  inexhaustible.  You 
may  rub  the  same  chip  of  pine  to  the  point  of 
kindling,  a  hundred  times  ;  and  the  power  of 
happiness  of  any  soul  is  not  to  be  computed  or 


CONSIDERATIONS  BY  THE   WAY.  233 

drained.  It  is  observed  that  a  depression  of  spirits 
develops  the  germs  of  a  plague  in  individuals  and 
nations. 

It  is  an  old  commendation  of  right  behavior, 
"  Aliis  Icetus,  sapiens  sibi,"  which  our  English  prov 
erb  translates,  "  Be  merry  and  wise."  I  know  how 
easy  it  is  to  men  of  the  world  to  look  grave  and 
sneer  at  your  sanguine  youth,  and  its  glittering 
dreams.  But  I  find  the  gayest  castles  in  the  air  that 
were  ever  piled,  far  better  for  comfort  and  for  use, 
than  the  dungeons  in  the  air  that  are  daily  dug  and 
caverned  out  by  grumbling,  discontented  people. 
I  know  those  miserable  fellows,  and  I  hate  them, 
who  see  a  black  star  always  riding  through  the 
light  and  colored  clouds  in  the  sky  overhead  : 
waves  of  light  pass  over  and  hide  it  for  a  moment, 
but  the  black  star  keeps  fast  in  the  zenith.  But 
power  dwells  with  cheerfulness  ;  hope  puts  us  in  a 
working  mood,  whilst  despair  is  no  muse,  and  un 
tunes  the  active  powers.  A  man  should  make  life 
and  Nature  happier  to  us,  or  he  had  better  never 
been  born.  When  the  political  economist  reckons 
up  the  unproductive  classes,  he  should  put  at  the 
head  this  class  of  pitiers  of  themselves,  cravers  of 
sympathy,  bewailing  imaginary  disasters.  An  old 
French  verse  runs,  in  my  translation  :  — 

Some  of  your  griefs  you  have  cured, 
And  the  sharpest  you  still  have  survived; 

But  what  torments  of  pain  you  endured 
From  evils  that  never  arrived! 


234  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

There  are  three  wants  which  never  can  be  satis 
fied  :  that  of  the  rich,  who  wants  something  more ; 
that  of  the  sick,  who  wants  something  different ; 
and  that  of  the  traveller,  who  says,  '  Anywhere  but 
here.'  The  Turkish  cadi  said  to  Layard,  "  After 
the  fashion  of  thy  people,  thou  hast  wandered  from 
one  place  to  another,  until  thou  art  happy  and  con 
tent  in  none."  My  countrymen  are  not  less  infat 
uated  with  the  rococo  toy  of  Italy.  All  America 
seems  on  the  point  of  embarking  for  Europe.  But 
we  shall  not  always  traverse  seas  and  lands  with 
light  purposes,  and  for  pleasure,  as  we  say.  One 
day  we  shall  cast  out  the  passion  for  Europe,  by  the 
passion  for  America.  Culture  will  give  gravity  and 
domestic  rest  to  those  who  now  travel  only  as  not 
knowing  how  else  to  spend  money.  Already,  who 
provoke  pity  like  that  excellent  family  party  just 
arriving  in  their  well-appointed  carriage,  as  far  from 
home  and  any  honest  end  as  ever  ?  Each  nation 
has  asked  successively,  4  What  are  they  here  for  ?  ' 
until  at  last  the  party  are  shamefaced,  and  antici 
pate  the  question  at  the  gates  of  each  town. 

Genial  manners  are  good,  and  power  of  accom 
modation  to  any  circumstance,  but  the  high  prize 
of  life,  the  crowning  fortune  of  a  man  is  to  be  born 
wTith  a  bias  to  some  pursuit,  which  finds  him  in  em 
ployment  and  happiness,  —  whether  it  be  to  make 
baskets,  or  broadswords,  or  canals,  or  statutes,  or 
songs.  I  doubt  not  this  was  the  meaning  of  Soc- 


CONSIDERATIONS  BY  THE   WAY.  235 

rates,  when   he   pronounced  artists   the  only  truly 
wise,  as  being  actually,  not  apparently  so. 

In  childhood,  we  fancied  ourselves  walled  in  by 
the  horizon,  as  by  a  glass  bell,  and  doubted  not, 
by  distant  travel,  we  should  reach  the  baths  of  the 
descending  sun  and  stars.  On  experiment,  the 
horizon  flies  before  us,  and  leaves  us  on  an  end 
less  common,  sheltered  by  no  glass  bell.  Yet  'tis 
strange  how  tenaciously  we  cling  to  that  bell-astron 
omy,  of  a  protecting  domestic  horizon.  I  find  the 
same  illusion  in  the  search  after  happiness,  which  I 
observe,  every  summer,  recommenced  in  this  neigh 
borhood,  soon  after  the  pairing  of  the  birds.  The 
young  people  do  not  like  the  town,  do  not  like  the 
sea-shore,  they  will  go  inland ;  find  a  dear  cottage 
deep  in  the  mountains,  secret  as  their  hearts.  They 
set  forth  on  their  travels  in  search  of  a  home  :  they 
reach  Berkshire ;  they  reach  Vermont ;  they  look 
at  the  farms  ;  —  good  farms,  high  mountain-sides  : 
but  where  is  the  seclusion  ?  The  farm  is  near  this ; 
'tis  near  that ;  they  have  got  far  from  Boston,  but 
'tis  near  Albany,  or  near  Burlington,  or  near  Mon 
treal.  They  explore  a  farm,  but  the  house  is  small, 
old,  thin  ;  discontented  people  lived  there,  and  are 
gone  :  —  there's  too  much  sky,  too  much  out-doors  ; 
too  public.  The  youth  aches  for  solitude.  When 
he  comes  to  the  house,  he  passes  through  the  house. 
That  does  not  make  the  deep  recess  he  sought. 
4  Ah !  now,  I  perceive,'  he  says,  4  it  must  be  deep 


236  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

with  persons  ;  friends  only  can  give  depth.'  Yes, 
but  there  is  a  great  dearth,  this  year,  of  friends ; 
hard  to  find,  and  hard  to  have  when  found :  they 
are  just  going  away :  they  too  are  in  the  whirl  of 
the  flitting  world,  and  have  engagements  and  neces 
sities.  They  are  just  starting  for  Wisconsin  ;  havt 
letters  from  Bremen:  —  see  you  again,  soon.  Slow, 
slow  to  learn  the  lesson,  that  there  is  but  one  depth, 
but  one  interior,  and  that  is  —  his  purpose.  When 
joy  or  calamity  or  genius  shall  show  him  it,  then 
woods,  then  farms,  then  city  shopmen  and  cab- 
drivers,  indifferently  with  prophet  or  friend,  will 
mirror  back  to  him  its  unfathomable  heaven,  its 
populous  solitude. 

The  uses  of  travel  are  occasional,  and  short ;  but 
the  best  fruit  it  finds,  when  it  finds  it,  is  conversa 
tion  ;  and  this  is  a  main  function  of  life.  What  a 
difference  in  the  hospitality  of  minds  I  Inestimable 
is  he  to  whom  we  can  say  what  we  cannot  say  to 
ourselves.  Others  are  involuntarily  hurtful  to  us, 
and  bereave  us  of  the  power  of  thought,  impound 
and  imprison  us.  As,  when  there  is  sympathy, 
there  needs  but  one  wise  man  in  a  company,  and 
all  are  wise,  —  so,  a  blockhead  makes  a  blockhead 
of  his  companion.  Wonderful  power  to  benumb 
possesses  this  brother.  When  he  comes  into  the 
office  or  public  room,  the  society  dissolves ;  one 
after  another  slips  out,  and  the  apartment  is  at  his 
disposal.  What  is  incurable  but  a  frivolous  habit  ? 


CONSIDERATIONS   BY  THE  WAY.  237 

A  fly  is  as  untamable  as  a  hyena.  Yet  folly  in 
the  sense  of  fun,  fooling,  or  dawdling  can  easily 
be  borne  ;  as  Talleyrand  said,  "  I  find  nonsense 
singularly  refreshing ;  "  but  a  virulent,  aggressive 
fool  taints  the  reason  of  a  household.  I  have  seen 
a  whole  family  of  quiet,  sensible  people  unhinged 
and  beside  themselves,  victims  of  such  a  rogue. 
For  the  steady  wrongheadedness  of*v  one  perverse 
person  irritates  the  best :  since  we  must  withstand 
absurdity.  But  resistance  only  exasperates  the  ac 
rid  fool,  who  believes  that  Nature  ,and  gravitation 
are  quite  wrong,  and  he  only  is  right.  Hence  all 
the  dozen  inmates  are  soon  perverted,  with  what 
ever  virtues  and  industries  they  have,  into  contra 
dictors,  accusers,  explainers,  and  repairers  of  this 
one  malefactor ;  like  a  boat  about  to  be  overset,  or 
a  carriage  run  away  with,  —  not  only  the  foolish 
pilot  or  driver,  but  everybody  on  board  is  forced  to 
assume  strange  and  ridiculous  attitudes,  to  balance 
the  vehicle  and  prevent  the  upsetting.  For  remedy, 
whilst  the  case  is  yet  mild,  I  recommend  phlegm 
and  truth  :  let  all  the  truth  that  is  spoken  or  done 
be  at  the  zero  of  indifferency,  or  truth  itself  will  be 
folly.  But,  when  the  case  is  seated  and  malignant, 
the  only  safety  is  in  amputation  ;  as  seamen  say, 
you  shall  cut  and  run.  How  to  live  with  unfit 
companions  ?  —  for,  with  such,  life  is  for  the  most 
part  spent :  and  experience  teaches  little  better  than 
our  earliest  instinct  of  self-defence,  namely,  not  to 


238  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

engage,  not  to  mix  yourself  in  any  manner  with 
them ;  but  let  their  madness  spend  itself  unopposed  ; 
—  you  are  you,  and  I  am  I. 

Conversation  is  an  art  in  which  a  man  has  all 
mankind  for  his  competitors,  for  it  is  that  which  all 
are  practising  every  day  while  they  live.  Our  habit 
of  thought,  —  take  men  as  they  rise,  —  is  not  satis 
fying  ;  in  the*  common  experience,  I  fear,  it  is  poor 
and  squalid./  (The  success  which  will  content  them, 
is,  a  bargain,  a  lucrative  employment,  an  advan 
tage  gained  over  a  competitor,  a  marriage,  a  patri 
mony,  a  legacy,  and  the  like.  With  these  objects, 
their  conversation  deals  with  surfaces  :  politics, 
trade,  personal  defects,  exaggerated  bad  news,  and 
the  rain.  This  is  forlorn,  and  they  feel  sore  and 
sensitive.  <  Now,  if  one  comes  who  can  illuminate 
this  dark  house  with  thoughts,  show  them  their 
native  riches,  what  gifts  they  have,  how  indispen 
sable  each  is,  what  magical  powers  over  nature 
and  men ;  what  access  to  poetry,  religion,  and 
the  powers  which  constitute  character  ;  he  wakes 
in  them  the  feeling  of  worth,  his  suggestions  re 
quire  new  ways  of  living,  new  books,  new  men, 
new  arts  and  sciences,  —  then  we  come  out  of  our 
egg-shell  existence  into  the  great  dome,.- (and  see 
the  zenith  over  and  the  nadir  under  usJ  Instead 
of  the  tanks  and  buckets  of  knowledge  to  which 
we  are  daily  confined,  we  come  down  to  the  shore 
of  the  sea,  and  dip  our  hands  in  its  miraculous 


CONSIDERATIONS   BY  THE   WAY.  239 

waves.  'Tis  wonderful  the  effect  on  the  company. 
They  are  not  the  men  they  were.  They  have 
all  been  to  California,  and  all  have  come  back 
millioimaires.  There  is  no  book  and  no  pleasure 
in  life  comparable  to  it.  Ask  what  is  best  in  our 
experience,  and  we  shall  say,  a  few  pieces  of  plain- 
dealing  with  wise  people.  Our  conversation  once 
and  again  has  apprised  us  that  we  belong  to  better 
circles  than  we  have  yet  beheld  ;  that  a  mental 
power  invites  us,  whose  generalizations  are  more 
worth  for  joy  and  for  effect  than  anything  that  is 
now  called  philosophy  or  literature.  In  excited 
conversation,  we  have  glimpses  of  the  Universe, 
hints  of  power  native  to  the  soul,  far-darting  lights 
and  shadows  of  an  Andes  landscape,  such  as  we  can 
hardly  attain  in  lone  meditation.  Here  are  oracles 
sometimes  profusely  given,  to  which  the  memory 
goes  back  in  barren  hours. 

Add  the  consent  of  will  and  temperament,  and 
there  exists  the  covenant  of  friendship.  Our  chief 
want  in  life,  is,  somebody  who  shall  make  us  do 
what  we  can.  This  is  the  service  of  a  friend. 
With  him  we  are  easily  great.  There  is  a  sublime 
attraction  in  him  to  whatever  virtue  is  in  us.  How 
he  flings  wide  the  doors  of  existence  !  What  ques 
tions  we  ask  of  him  !  what  an  understanding  we 
have  !  how  few  words  are  needed  !  It  is  the  only 
real  society.  An  Eastern  poet,  Ali  Ben  Abu  Ta- 
leb,  writes  with  sad  truth, — 


240  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

"  He  who  has  a  thousand  friends  has  not  a  friend  to  spare, 
And  he  who  has  one  enemy  shall  meet  him  everywhere." 

But  few  writers  have  said  anything  better  to  this 
point  than  Hafiz,  who  indicates  this  relation  as  the 
test  of  mental  health :  "  Thou  learnest  no  secret 
until  thou  knowest  friendship,  since  to  the  unsound 
no  heavenly  knowledge  enters."  Neither  is  life 
long  enough  for  friendship.  That  is  a  serious  and 
majestic  affair,  like  a  royal  presence,  or  a  religion, 
and  not  a  postilion's  dinner  to  be  eaten  on  the  run. 
There  is  a  pudency  about  friendship,  as  about  love, 
and  though  fine  souls^  never  lose  sight  of  it,  yet  they 
do  not  name  it.  With  the  iirst  class  of  men  our 
friendship  or  good  understanding  goes  quite  behind 
all  accidents  of  estrangement,  of  condition,  of  repu 
tation.  And  yet  we  do  not  provide  for  the  greatest 
good  of  life.  We  take  care  of  our  health ;  we  lay 
up  money ;  we  make  our  roof  tight,  and  our  cloth 
ing  sufficient ;  but  who  provides  wisely  that  he  shall 
not  be  wanting  in  the  best  property  of  all, — friends? 
We  know  that  all  our  training  is  to  fit  us  for  this, 
and  we  do  not  take  the  step  towards  it.  How  long 
shall  we  sit  and  wait  for  these  benefactors  ? 

It  makes  no  difference,  in  looking  back  five  years, 
how  you  have  been  dieted  or  dressed  ;  whether  you 
have  been  lodged  on  the  first  floor  or  the  attic ; 
whether  you  have  had  gardens  and  baths,  good  cat 
tle  and  horses,  have  been  carried  in  a  neat  equipage, 
or  in  a  ridiculous  truck  :  these  things^are  forgot- 


CONSIDERATIONS   BY  THE   WAY.  241 

ten  so  quickly,  and  leave  no  effect.  But  it  counts 
much  whether  we  have  had  good  companions,  in 
that  time  ;  —  almost  as  much  as  what  we  have 
been  doing.  And  see  the  overpowering  impor 
tance  of  neighborhood  in  all  association.  As  it  is 
marriage,  fit  or  unfit,  that  makes  our  home,  so  it 
is  who  lives  near  us  of  equal  social  degree,  —  a  few 
people  at  convenient  distance,  no  matter'  how  bad 
company,  —  these,  and  these  only,  shall  be  your 
life's  companions  :  and  all  those  who  are  native, 
congenial,  and  by  many  an  oath  of  the  heart,  sacra- 
mented  to  you,  are  gradually  and  totally  lost.  You 
cannot  deal  systematically  with  this  fine  element 
of  society,  and  one  may  take  a  good  deal  of  pains 
to  bring  people  together,  and  to  organize  clubs  and 
debating  societies,  and  yet  no  result  come  of  it. 
But  it  is  certain  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  good 
in  us  that  does  not  know  itself,  and  that  a  habit  of 
union  and  competition  brings  people  up  and  keeps 
them  up  to  their  highest  point ;  that  life  would  be 
twice  or  ten  times  life,  if  spent  with  wise  and  fruit 
ful  companions.  The  obvious  inference  is,  a  little 
useful  deliberation  and  preconcert,  when  one  goes 
to  buy  house  and  land. 

But  we  live  with  people  on  other  platforms ;  we 
live  with  dependents,  not  only  with  the  young 
whom  we  are  to  teach  all  we  know,  and  clothe 
with  the  advantages  we  have  earned,  but  also  with 
those  who  serve  us  directly,  and  for  money.  Yet 
11- 


242  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

the  old  rules  hold  good.  Let  not  the  tie  be  mer 
cenary,  though  the  service  is  measured  by  money. 
Make  yourself  necessary  to  somebody.  Do  not 
make  life  hard  to  any.  This  point  is  acquiring  new 
importance  in  American  social  life.  Our  domestic 
service  is  usually  a  foolish  fracas  of  unreasonable 
demand  on  one  side,  and  shirking  on  the  other.  A 
man  of  wit  was  asked,  in  the  train,  what  was  his 
errand  in  the  city  ?  He  replied,  "  I  have  been  sent 
to  procure  an  angel  to  do  cooking."  A  lady  com 
plained  to  me,  that,  of  her  two  maidens,  one  was 
absent-minded,  and  the  other  was  absent-bodied. 
And  the  evil  increases  from  the  ignorance  and  hos 
tility  of  every  ship-load  of  the  immigrant  population 
swarming  into  houses  and  farms.  Few  people  dis 
cern  that  it  rests  with  the  master  or  the  mistress 
what  service  comes  from  the  man  or  the  maid ;  that 
this  identical  hussy  was  a  tutelar  spirit  in  one 
house,  and  a  haridan  in  the  other.  All  sensible 
people  are  selfish,  and  nature  is  tugging  at  every 
contract  to  make  the  terms  of  it  fair.  If  you  are 
proposing  only  your  own,  the  other  party  must  deal 
a  little  hardly  by  you.  If  you  deal  generously,  the 
other,  though  selfish  and  unjust,  will  make  an  ex 
ception  in  your  favor,  and  deal  truly  with  you. 
When  I  asked  an  iron-master  about  the  slag  and 

O 

cinder  in  railroad  iron,  —  "  O,"  he  said,  "  there's 
always  good  iron  to  be  had :  if  there's  cinder  in 
the  iron,  'tis  because  there  was  cinder  in  the  pay." 


CONSIDERATIONS   BY  THE   WAY.  243 

But  why  multiply  these  topics,  and  their  illus 
trations,  which  are  endless  ?  Life  brings  to  each 
his  task,  and,  whatever  art  you  select,  algebra, 
planting,  architecture,  poems,  commerce,  politics, — 
all  are  attainable,  even  to  the  miraculous  triumphs, 
on  the  same  terms,  of  selecting  that  for  which  you 
are  apt ;  —  begin  at  the  beginning,  proceed  in  order, 
step  by  step.  'Tis  as  easy  to  twist  iron  anchors, 
and  braid  cannons,  as  to  braid  straw,  to  boil  granite 
as  to  boil  water,  if  you  take  all  the  steps  in  order. 
Wherever  there  is  failure,  there  is  some  giddiness, 
some  superstition  about  luck,  some  step  omitted, 
which  Nature  never  pardons.  The  happy  con 
ditions  of  life  may  be  had  on  the  same  terms. 
Their  attraction  for  you  is  the  pledge  that  they 
are  within  your  reach.  Our  prayers  are  prophets. 
There  must  be  fidelity,  and  there  must  be  ad 
herence.  How  respectable  the  life  that  clings  to 
its  objects  !  Youthful  aspirations  are  fine  things, 
your  theories  and  plans  of  life  are  fair  and  com 
mendable  :  —  but  will  you  stick  ?  Not  one,  I  fear, 
in  that  Common  full  of  people,  or,  in  a  thousand,  but 
one:  and,  when  you  tax  them  with  treachery,  and 
remind  them  of  their  high  resolutions,  they  have  for 
gotten  that  they  made  a  vow.  The  individuals  are 
fugitive,  and  in  the  act  of  becoming  something  else, 
and  irresponsible.  The  race  is  great,  the  ideal  fair, 
but  the  men  whiffling  and  unsure.  The  hero  is  he 
who  is  immovably  centred.  The  main  difference 
between  people  seems  to  be,  that  one  man  can 


244  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

come  under  obligations  on  which  you  can  rely, — 
is  obligable  ;  and  another  is  not.  As  he  has  not  a 
law  within  him,  there's  nothing  to  tie  him  to. 

'Tis  inevitable  to  name'  particulars  of  virtue,  and 
of  condition,  and  to  exaggerate  them.  But  all  rests 
at  last  on  that  integrity  which  dwarfs  talent,  and 
can  spase  it.-  Sanity  consists  in  not  being  sub 
dued  by  your  means.  Fancy  prices  are  paid  for 
position,  and  for  the  culture  of  talent,  but  to  the 
grand  interests,  superficial  success  is  of  no  account. 
The  man,  —  it  is  his  attitude,  —  not  feats,  but 
forces,  —  not  on  set  days  and  public  occasions,  but, 
at  all  hours,  and  in  repose  alike  as  in  energy,  still 
formidable,  and  not  to  be  disposed  of.  The  popu 
lace  says,  with  Home  Tooke,  "  If  you  would  be 
powerful,  pretend  to  be  powerful."  I  prefer  to  say, 
with  the  old  prophet,  "  Seekest  thou  great  things  ? 
seek  them  not  :  "  —  or,  what  was  said  of  a  Spanish 
prince,  "  The  more  you  took  from  him,  the  greater 
he  looked."  Plus  on  Im  ote,  plus  il  est  grand. 

The  secret  of  culture  is  to  learn,  that  a  few  great 
points  steadily  reappear,  alike  in  the  poverty  of  the 
obscurest  farm,  and  in  the  miscellany  of  metro 
politan  life,  and  that  these  few  are  alone  to  be  re 
garded,  —  the  escape  from  all  false  ties  ;  courage 
to  be  what  we  are  ;  and  love  of  what  is  simple 
and  beautiful ;  independence,  and  cheerful  relation, 
these  are  the  essentials,  —  these,  and  the  wish  to 
serve,  —  to  add  somewhat  to  the  well-being  of 
men. 


VIII. 

BEAUTY. 


WAS  never  form  and  never  face 
So  sweet  to  SETD  as  only  grace 
Which  did  not  slumber  like  a  stone 
But  hovered  gleaming  and  was  gone. 
Beauty  chased  he  everywhere, 
In  flame,  in .-^storm,  in  clouds  of  air. 
He  smote  the  lake  to  feed  his  eye 

With  the  beryl  beam  of  the  broken  wave; 
He  flung  in  pebbles  well  to  hear 

The  moment's  music  which  they  gave. 
Oft  pealed  for  him  a  lofty  tone 
From  nodding  pole  and  belting  zone. 
He  heard  a  voice  none  else  could  hear 
From  centred  and  from  errant  sphere. 
The  quaking  earth  did  quake  in  rhyme, 
Seas  ebbed  and  flowed  in  epic  chime. 
In  dens  of  passion,  and  pits  of  wo, 
He  saw  strong  Eros  struggling  through, 
To  sun  the  dark  and  solve  the  curse, 
And  beam  to  the  bounds  of  the  universe. 
While  thus  to  love  he  gave  his  days 
In  loyal  worship,  scorning  praise, 
How  spread  their  lures  for  him.  in  vain, 
Thieving  Ambition  and  paltering  Gain  ! 
He  thought  it  happier  to  be  dead, 
To  die  for  Beauty,  than  live  for  bread. 


BEAUTY. 

THE  spiral  tendency  of  vegetation  infects  edu 
cation  also.  Our  books  approach  very  slowly  the 
things  we  most  wish  to  know.  What  a  parade  we 
make  of  our  science,  and  how  far  off,  and  at  arm's 
length,  it  is  from  its  objects  !  Our  botany  is  all 
names,  not  powers  :  poets  and  romancers  talk  of 
herbs  of  grace  and  healing ;  but  what  does  the 
botanist  know  of  the  virtues  of  his  weeds  ?  The 
geologist  lays  bare  the  strata,  and  can  tell  them  all 
on  his  fingers  :  but  does  he  know  what  effect  passes 
into  the  man  who  builds  his  house  in  them  ?  what 
effect  on  the  race  that  inhabits  a  granite  shelf? 
what  on  the  inhabitants  of  marl  and  of  alluvium? 

We  should  go  to  the  ornithologist  with  a  new 
feeling,  if  he  could  teach  us  what  the  social  birds 
say,  when  they  sit  in  the  autumn  council,  talk 
ing  together  in  the  trees.  The  want  of  sympathy 
makes  his  record  a  dull  dictionary.  His  result  is 
a  dead  bird.  The  bird  is  not  in-  its  ounces  and 
inches,  but  in  its  relations  to  Nature  ;  and  the  skin 
or  skeleton  you  show  me,  is  no  more  a  heron,  than 
a  heap  of  ashes  or  a  bottle  of  gases  into  which  his 


248  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE 

body  lias  been  reduced,  is  Dante  or  Washington. 
The  naturalist  is  led  from  the  road  by  the  whole 
distance  of  his  fancied  advance.  The  boy  had 
juster  views  when  he  gazed  at  the  shells  on  the 
beach,  or  the  flowers  in  the  meadow,  unable  to  call 
them  by  their  names,  than  the  man  in  the  pride- of 
his  nomenclature.  Astrology  interested  us,  for  it 
tied  man  to  the  system.  Instead  of  an  isolated  beg 
gar,  the  farthest  star  felt  him,  and  he  felt  the  star. 
However  rash  and  however  falsified  by  pretenders 
and  traders  in  it,  the  hint  was  true  and  divine,  the 
soul's  avowal  of  its  large  relations,  and,  that  cli 
mate,  century,  remote  natures,  as  well  as  near,  are 
part  of  its  biography.  Chemistry  takes  to  pieces, 
but  it  does  not  construct.  Alchemy  which  sought 
to  transmute  one  element  into  another,  to  prolong 
life,  to  arm  with  power,  —  that  was  in  the  right 
direction.  All  our  science  lacks  a  human  side. 
The  tenant  is  more  than  the  house.  Bugs  and 
stamens  and  spores,  on  which  we  lavish  so  many 
years,  are  not  finalities,  and  man,  when  his  powers 
unfold  in  order,  will  take  Nature  along  with  him, 
and  emit  Kght  into  all  her  recesses.  The  human 
heart  concerns  us  more  than  the  poring  into  micro 
scopes,  and  is  larger  than  can  be  measured  by  the 
pompous  figures  of  the  astronomer. 

We  are  just  so  frivolous  and  skeptical.  Men 
hold  themselves  cheap  and  vile :  and  yet  a  man  is 
a  fagot  of  thunderbolts.  All  the  elements  pour 


BEAUTY.  249 

through  his  system  :  he  is  the  flood  of  the  flood, 
and  fire  of  the  fire  ;  he  feels  the  antipodes  and  the 
pole,  as  drops  of  his  blood  :  they  are  the  extension 
of  his  personality.  His  duties  are  measured  by  that 
instrument  he  is  ;  and  a  right  and  perfect  man 
would  be  felt  to  the  centre  of  the  Copernican  sys 
tem.  'Tis  curious  that  we  only  believe  as  deep  as 
we  live.  We  do  not  think  heroes  can  exert  any 
more  awful  power  than  that  surface-play  which 
amuses  us.  A  deep  man  believes  in  miracles, 
waits  for  them,  believes  in  magic,  believes  that 
the  orator  will  decompose  his  adversary;  believes 
that  the  evil  eye  can  wither,  that  the  heart's  bless 
ing  can  heal ;  that  love  can  exalt  talent ;  can 
overcome  all  odds.  From  a  great  heart  secret 
magnetisms  flow  incessantly  to  draw  great  events. 
But  we  prize  very  humble  utilities,  a  prudent  hus 
band,  a  good  son,  a  voter,  a  citizen,  and  deprecate 
any  romance  of  character ;  and  perhaps  reckon  only 
his  money  value,  —  his  intellect,  his  affection,  as  a 
sort  of  bill  of  exchange,  easily  convertible  into  fine 
chambers,  pictures,  music,  and  wine. 

The  motive  of  science  was  the  extension  of  man, 
on  all  sides,  into  Nature,  till  his  hands  should  touch 
the  stars,  his  eyes  see  through  the  earth,  his  ears 
understand  the  language  of  beast  and  bird,  and 
the  sense  of  the  wind  ;  and,  through  his  sympathy, 
heaven  and  earth  should  talk  with  him.  But  that 
is  not  our  science.  These  geologies,  chemistries, 


250  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

astronomies,  seem  to  make  wise,  but  they  leave  us 
where  they  found  us.  The  invention  is  of  use  to 
the  inventor,  of  questionable  help  to  any  other. 
The  formulas  of  science  are  like  the  papers  in  your 
pocket-book,  of  no  value  to  any  but  the  owner. 
Science  in  England,  in  America,  is  jealous  of 
theory,  hates  the  name  of  love  and  moral  pur 
pose.  There's  a  revenge  for  this  inhumanity. 
What  manner  of  man  does  science  make  ?  The 
boy  is  not  attracted.  He  says^  I  do  not  wish  to  be 
such  a  kind  of  man  as  my  professor  is.  The  col 
lector  has  dried  all  the  plants  in  his  herbal,  but  he 
has  lost  weight  and  humor.  He  has  got  all  snakes 
and  lizards  in  his  phials,  but  science  has  done  for 
him  also,  and  has  put  the  man  into  a  bottle.  Our 
reliance  on  the  physician  is  a  kind  of  despair  of 
ourselves.  The  clergy  have  bronchitis,  which  does 
not  seem  a  certificate  of  spiritual  health.  Macready 
thought  it  came  of  the  falsetto  of  their  voicing. 
An  Indian  prince,  Tisso,  one  day  riding  in  the  for 
est,  saw  a  herd  of  elk  sporting.  "  See  how  happy," 
he  said,  "  these  browsing  elks  are  !  Why  should 
not  priests,  lodged  and  fed  comfortably  in  the  tern 
pies,  also  amuse  themselves  ?  "  Returning  home, 
he  imparted  this  reflection  to  the  king.  The  king, 
on  the  next  day,  conferred  the  sovereignty  on  him, 
saying,  "  Prince,  administer  this  empire  for  seven 
days  :  at  the  termination  of  that  period,  I  shall  put 
thee  to  death."  At  the  end  of  the  seventh  day, 


BEAUTY.  251 

the  king  inquired,  "  From  what  cause  hast  thou  be 
come  so  emaciated  ?  "  He  answered,  "  From  the 
horror  of  death."  The  monarch  rejoined  :  "  Live, 
my  child,  and  be  wise.  Thou  hast  ceased  to  take 
recreation,  saying  to  thyself,  in  seven  days  I  shall 
be  put  to  death.  These  priests  in  the  temple 
incessantly  meditate  on  death  ;  how  can  they  en 
ter  into  healthful  diversions  ?  "  But  the  men  of 
science  or  the  doctors  or  the  clergy  are  not  victims 
of  their  pursuits,  more  than  others.  The  miller,  the 
lawyer,  and  the  merchant,  dedicate  themselves  to 
their  own  details,  and  do  not  come  out  men  of  more 
force.  Have  they  divination,  grand  aims,  hospi 
tality  of  soul,  and  the  equality  to  any  event,  which 
we  demand  in  man,  or  only  the  reactions  of  the 
mill,  of  the  wares,  of  the  chicane  ? 

No  object  really  interests  us  but  man,  and  in 
man  only  his  superiorities ;  arid,  though  we  are 
aware  of  a  perfect  law  in  Nature,  it  has  fascination 
for  us  only  through  its  relation  to  him,  or,  as  it 
is  rooted  in  the  mind.  At  the  birth  of  Winckel- 
mann,-  more  than  a  hundred  years  ago,  side  by  side 
with  this  arid,  departmental,  post  mortem  science, 
rose  an  enthusiasm  in  the  study  of  Beauty  ;  and 
perhaps  some  sparks  from  it  may  yet  light  a  con 
flagration  in  the  other.  Knowledge  of  men,  knowl 
edge  of  manners,  the  power  of  form,  and  our 
sensibility  to  personal  influence,  never  go  out  of 
fashion.  These  are  facts  of  a  science  which  we 


252  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

study  without  book,  whose  teachers    and  subjects 
are  always  near  us. 

So  inveterate  is  our  habit  of  criticism,  that  much 
of  our  knowledge  in  this  direction  belongs  to  the 
chapter  of  pathology.  The  crowd  in  the  street 
oftener  furnishes  degradations  than  angels  or  re 
deemers  :  but  they  all  prove  the  transparency. 
Every  spirit  makes  its,  house  ;  and  we  can  give  a 
shrewd  guess  from  the  house  to  the  inhabitant. 
But  not  less  does  Nature  furnish  us  with  every  sign 
of  grace  and  goodness.  The  delicious  faces  of  chil 
dren,  the  beauty  of  school-girls,  "  the  sweet  serious 
ness  of  sixteen,"  the  lofty  air  of  well-born,  well- 
bred  boys,  the  passionate  histories  in  the  looks  and 
manners  of  youth  and  early  manhood,  and  the  va 
ried  power  in  all  that  well-known  company  that 
escort  us  through  life,  —  we  know  how  these  forms 
thrill,  paralyze,  provoke,  inspire,  and  enlarge  us. 
\l  Beauty  is  the  form  under  which  the  intellect  pre- 
.,  fers  to  study  the  world.  All  privilege  is  that  of 
\  beauty ;  for  there  are  many  beauties ;  as,  of  general 
nature,  of  the  human  face  and  form,  of  manners, 
of  brain,  or  method,  moral  beauty,  or  beauty  of 
the  soul. 

The  ancients  believed  that  a  genius  or  demon 
took  possession  at  birth  of  each  mortal,  to  guide 
him;  that  these  genii  were  sometimes  seen  as  a 
flame  of  fire  partly  immersed  in  the  bodies  which 
they  governed;  —  on  an  evil  man,  resting  on  his 


BEAUTY.  253 

head  ;  in  a  good  man,  mixed  with  his  substance. 
They  thought  the  same  genius,  at  the  death  of  its 
ward,  entered  a  new-born  child,  and  they  pre 
tended  to  guess  the  pilot,  by  the  sailing  of  the  ship. 
We  recognize  obscurely  the  same  fact,  though  we 
give  it  our  own  names.  We  say,  that  every  man 
is  entitled  to  be  valued  by  his  best  moment.  We 
measure  our  friends  so.  We  know,  they  have 
intervals  of  folly,  whereof  we  take  no  heed,  but 
wait  the  reappearings  of  the  genius,  which  are 
sure  and  beautiful.  On  the  other  side,  everybody 
knows  people  who  appear  beridden,  and  who,  with 
all  degrees  of  ability,  never  impress  us  with  the 
air  of  free  agency.  They  know  it  too,  and  peep 
with  their  eyes  to  see  if  you  detect  their  sad 
plight.  We  fancy,  could  we  pronounce  the  solv 
ing  word,  and  disenchant  them,  the  cloud  would 
roll  up,  the  little  rider  would  be  discovered  and  un 
seated,  and  they  would  regain  their  freedom.  The 
remedy  seems  never  to  be  far  off,  since  the  first 
step  into  thought  lifts  this  mountain  of  necessity. 
Thought  is  the  pent  air-ball  which  can  rive  the 
planet,  and  the  beauty  which  certain  objects  have 
for  him,  is  the  friendly  fire  which  expands  the 
thought,  and  acquaints  the  prisoner  that  liberty 
and  power  await  him. 

The  question  of  Beauty  takes  us  out  of  surfaces, 
to  thinking  of  the  foundations  of  things.  Goethe 
said,  "  The  beautiful  is  a  manifestation  of  secret 


254  CONDUCT  OF  LIFE. 

laws  of  Nature,  which,  but  for  this  appearance,  had 
been  forever  concealed  from  us."  And  the  work 
ing  of  this  deep  instinct  makes  all  the  excitement 
—  much  of  it  superficial  and  absurd  enough  — 
about  works  of  art,  which  leads  armies  of  vain 
travellers  every  year  to  Italy,  Greece,  and  Egypt. 
Every  man  values  every  acquisition  he  makes 
in  the  science  of  beauty,  above  his  possessions. 
The  most  useful  man  in  the  most  useful  world,  so 
long  as  only  commodity  was  served,  would  remain 
unsatisfied.  But,  as  fast  as  he  sees  beauty,  life 
acquires  a  very  high  value. 

I  am  warned  by  the  ill  fate  of  many  philosophers 
not  to  attempt  a  definition  of  Beauty.  I  will  rather 
enumerate  a  few  of  its  qualities.  We  ascribe  beauty 
to  that  which  is  simple ;  which  has  no  superfluous 
parts  ;  which  exactly  answers  its  end ;  which  stands 
related  to  all  things  ;  which  is  the  mean  of  many 
extremes.  It  is  the  most  enduring  quality,  and  the 
most  ascending  quality.  We  say,  love  is  blind,  and 
the  figure  of  Cupid  is  drawn  with  a  bandage  round 
his  eyes.  Blind  :  —  yes,  because  he  does  not  see 
what  he  does  not  like  ;  but  the  sharpest-sighted 
hunter  in  the  universe  is  Love,  for  finding  what  he 
seeks,  and  only  that ;  and  the  mythologists  tell  us, 
that  Vulcan  was  painted  lame,  and  Cupid  blind,  to 
call  attention  to  the  fact,  that  one  was  all  limbs, 
and  the  other,  all  eyes.  In  the  true  mythology, 
Love  is  an  immortal  child,  and  Beauty  leads  him  as 


BEAUTY.  255 

a  guide :  nor  can  we  express  a  deeper  sense  than 
when  we  say,  Beauty  is  the  pilot  of  the  young 
soul.  - 

Beyond  their  sensuous  delight,  the  forms  and 
colors  of  Nature  have  a  new  charm  for  us  in  pur 
perception,  that  not  one  ornament  was  added  for 
ornament,  but  is  a  sign  of  some  better  health,  or 
more  excellent  action.  Elegance  of  form  in  bird  or 
beast,  or  in  the  human  figure,  marks  some  excel 
lence  of  structure  :  or  beauty  is  only  an  invitation 
from  what  belongs  to  us.  'Tis  a  law  of  botany, 
that  in  plants,  the  same  virtues  follow  the  same 
forms.  It  is  a  rule  of  largest  application,  true  in 
a  plant,  true  in  a  loaf  of  bread,  that  in  the  con 
struction  ,pf  any  fabric  or  organism,  any  real  in 
crease  of  fitness  to  its  end,  is  an  increase  of 
beauty. 

The  lesson  taught  by  the  study  of  Greek  and 
of  Gothic  art,  of  antique  and  of  Pre-Raphaelite 
painting,  was  worth  all  the  research,  —  namely, 
that  all  beauty  must  be  organic  ;  that  outside  em 
bellishment  is  deformity.  It  is  the  soundness  of 
the  bones  that  ultimates  itself  in  a  peach-bloom 
complexion  :  health  of  constitution  that  makes  the 
sparkle  and  the  power  of  the  eye.  'Tis  the  adjust 
ment  of  the  size  and  of  the  joining  of  the  sockets 
of  the  skeleton,  that  gives  grace  of  outline  and  the 
finer  grace  of  movement.  The  cat  and  the  deer 
cannot  move  or  sit  inelegantly.  The  dancing- 


256  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

master  can  never  teach  a  badly  built  man  to  walk 
well.  The  tint  of  the  flower  proceeds  from  its  root, 
and  the  lustres  of  the  sea-shell  begin  with  its  exist 
ence.  Hence  our  taste  in  building  rejects  paint, 
and  all  shifts,  and  shows  the  original  grain  of 
the  wood  :  refuses  pilasters  and  columns  that  sup 
port  nothing,  and  allows  the  real  supporters  of 
the  house  honestly  to  show  themselves.  Every 
necessary  or  organic  action  pleases  the  beholder. 
A  man  leading  a  horse  to  water,  a  farmer  sowing 
seed,  the  labors  of  haymakers  in  the  field,  the  car 
penter  building  a  ship,  the  smith  at  his  forge,  or, 
whatever  useful  labor,  is  becoming  to  the  wise  eye. 
But  if  it  is  done  to  be  seen,  it  is  mean.  How 
beautiful  are  ships  on  the  sea  !  but  ships  in  the 
theatre,  —  or  ships  kept  for  picturesque  effect  on 
Virginia  Water,  by  George  IV.,  and  men  hired  to 
stand  in  fitting  costumes  at  a  penny  an  hour  !  — 
What  a  difference  in  effect  between  a  battalion 
of  troops  marching  to  action,  and  one  of  our  inde 
pendent  companies  on  a  holiday  I  In  the  midst 
of  a  military  show,  and  a  festal  procession  gay  with 
banners,  I  saw  a  boy  seize  an  old  tin  pan  that  lay 
rusting  under  a  wall,  and  poising  it  on  the  top  of  a 
stick,  he  set  it  turning,  and  made  it  describe  the 
most  elegant  imaginable  curves,  and  drew  away 
attention  from  the  decorated  procession  by  this 
startling  beauty. 

Another    text    from    the    mythologists.       The 


BEAUTY.  257 

Greeks  fabled  that  Venus  was  born  of  the  foam 
of  the  sea.  Nothing  interests  us  which  is  stark  or 
bounded,  but  only  what  streams  with  life,  what  is 
in  act  or  endeavor  to  reach  somewhat  beyond.  The 
pleasure  a  palace  or  a  temple  gives  the  eye,  is,  that 
an  order  and  method  has  been  communicated  to 
stones,  so  that  they  speak  and  geometrize,  become 
tender  or  sublime  with  expression.  Beauty  is  the 
moment  of  transition,  as  if  the  form  were  just  ready 
to  flow  into  other  forms.  Any  fixedness,  heap 
ing,  or  concentration  on  one  feature,  —  a  long  nose, 
a  sharp  chin,  a  hump-back,  —  is  the  reverse  of  the 
flowing,  and  therefore  deformed.  Beautiful  as  is 
the  symmetry  of  any  form,  if  the  form  can  move, 
we  seek  a  more  excellent  symmetry.  The  inter 
ruption  of  equilibrium  stimulates  the  eye  to  desire 
the  restoration  of  symmetry,  and  to  watch  the  steps 
through  which  it  is  attained.  This  is  the  charm 
of  running  water,  sea- waves,  the  flight  of  birds,  and 
the  locomotion  of  animals.  This  is  the  theory  of 
dancing,  to  recover  continually  in  changes  the  lost 
equilibrium,  not  by  abrupt  and  angular,  but  by 
gradual  and  curving  movements.  I  have  been  told 

O  O 

by  persons  of  experience  in  matters  of  taste,  that 
the  fashions  follow  a  law  of  gradation,  and  are 
never  arbitrary.  The  new  mode  is  always  only  a 
step  onward  in  the  same  direction  as  the  last  mode ; 
and  a  cultivated  eye  is  prepared  for  and  predicts 
the  new  fashion.  This  fact  suggests  the  reason  of 


258  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

all  mistakes  and  offence  in  our  own  modes.  It  is 
necessary  in  music,  when  you  strike  a  discord,  to 
let  down  the  ear  by  an  intermediate  note  or  two 
to  the  accord  again  :  and  many  a  good  experiment, 
born  of  good  sense,  and  destined  to  succeed,  fails, 
only  because  it  is  offensively  sudden.  I  suppose,  the 
Parisian  milliner  who  dresses  the  world  from  her 
imperious  boudoir  will  know  how  to  reconcile  the 
Bloomer  costume  to  the  eye  of  mankind,  and  make 
it  triumphant  over  Punch  himself,  by  interposing 
the  just  gradations.  I  need  not  say,  how  wide  the 
game  law  ranges ;  and  how  much  it  can  be  hoped 
to  effect.  All  that  is  a  little  harshly  claimed  by 
progressive  parties,  may  easily  come  to  be  conceded 
without  question,  if  this  rule  be  observed.  Thus 
the  circumstances  may  be  easily  imagined,  in  which 
woman  may  speak,  vote,  argue  causes,  legislate,  and 
drive  a  coach,  and  all  the  most  naturally  in  the 
world,  if  only  it  come  by  degrees.  To  this  stream 
ing  or  flowing  belongs  the  beauty  that  all  circu 
lar  movement  has ;  as,  the  circulation  of  waters, 
the  circulation  of  the  blood,  the  periodical  mo 
tion  of  planets,  the  annual  wave  of  vegetation, 
the  action  and  reaction  of  Nature :  and,  if  we 
follow  it  out,  this  demand  in  our  thought  for 
an  ever-onward  action,  is  the  argument  for  -the 
immortality. 

One  more  text  from  the  mythologists  is  to  the 
same  purpose,  —  Beauty  rides  on  a  lion.     Beauty 


BEAUTY.  259 

rests  on  necessities.  The  line  of  beauty  is  the 
result  of  perfect  economy.  The  cell  of  the  bee  is 
built  at  that  angle  which  gives  the  most  strength 
with  the  least  wax  ;  the  bone  or  the  quill  of  the 
bird  gives  the  most  alar  strength,  with  the  least 
weight.  "  It  is  the  purgation  of  superfluities,"  said 
Michel  Angelo.  There  is  not  a  particle  to  spare 
in  natural  structures.  There  is  a  compelling  rea 
son  in  the  uses  of  the  plant,  for  every  novelty 
of  color  or  form  :  and  our  art  saves  material,  by 
more  skilful  arrangement,  and  reaches  beauty  by 
taking  every  superfluous  ounce  that  can  be  spared 
from  a  wall,  and  keeping  all  its  strength  in  the 
poetry  of  columns.  In  rhetoric,  this  art  of  omis 
sion  is  a  chief  secret  of  power,  and,  in  general,  it  is 
proof  of  high  culture,  to  say  the  greatest  matters  in 
the  simplest  way. 

Veracity  first  of  all,  and  forever.  Rien  de  beau 
que  le  vrai.  In  all  design,  art  lies  in  making  your 
object  prominent,  but  there  is  a  prior  art  in  choos 
ing  objects  that  are  prominent.  The  fine  arts  have 
nothing  casual,  but  spring  from  the  instincts  of  the 
nations  that  created  them. 

Beauty  is  the  quality  which  makes  to  endure. 
In  a  house  that  I  know,  I  have  noticed  a  block  of 
spermaceti  lying  about  closets  and  mantel-pieces,  for 
twenty  years  together,  .simply  because  the  tallow- 
man  gave  it  the  form  of  a  rabbit ;  and,  I  suppose,  it 
may  continue  to  be  lugged  about  unchanged  for  a 


260  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

century.  Let  an  artist  scrawl  a  few  lines  or  figures 
on  the  back  of  a  letter,  and  that  scrap  of  paper  is 
rescued  from  danger,  is  put  in  portfolio,  is  framed 
and  glazed,  and,  in  proportion  to  the  beauty  of  the 
lines  drawn,  will  be  kept  for  centuries.  Burns 
writes  a  copy  of  verses,  and  sends  them  to  a  news 
paper,  and  the  human  race  take  charge  of  them 
that  they  shall  not  perish. 

As  the  flute  is  heard  farther  than  the  cart,  see 
how  surely  a  beautiful  form  strikes  the  fancy  of 
men,  and  is  copied  and  reproduced  without  end. 
How  many  copies  are  there  of  the  Belvedere 
Apollo,  the  Venus,  the  Psyche,  the  Warwick  Vase, 
the  Parthenon,  and  the  Temple  of  Vesta  ?  These 
are  objects  of  tenderness  to  all.  In  our  cities,  an 
ugly  building  is  soon  removed,  and  is  never  re 
peated,  but  any  beautiful  building  is  copied  and 
improved  upon,  so  that  all  masons  and  carpenters 
work  to  repeat  and  preserve  the  agreeable  forms, 
whilst  the  ugly  ones  die  out. 

The  felicities  of  design  in  art,  or  in  works  of 
Nature,  are  shadows  or  forerunners  of  that  beauty 
which  reaches  its  perfection  in  the  human  form. 
All  men  are  its  lovers.  Wherever  it  goes,  it  creates 
joy  and  hilarity,  and  everything  is  permitted  to  it. 
It  reaches  its  height  in  woman.  "  To  Eve,"  say 
the  Mahometans,  "  God  gave  two  thirds  of  all 
beauty."  A  beautiful  woman  is  a  practical  poet, 
taming  her  savage  mate,  planting  tenderness,  hope, 


BEAUTY.  .     «  2G1 

and  eloquence,  in  all  whom  she  approaches.  Some 
favors  of  condition  must  go  with  it,  since  a  certain 
serenity  is  essential,  but  we  love  its  reproofs  and 
superiorities.  Nature  wishes  that  woman  should 
attract  man,  yet  she  often  cunningly  moulds  into 
her  face  a  little  sarcasm,  which  seems  to  say,  •'  Yes, 
I  am  willing  to  attract,  but  to  attract  a  little  better 
kind  of  a  man  than  any  I  yet  behold.'  French 
memoires  of  the  fifteenth  century  celebrate  the 
name  of  Pauline  de  Yiguiere,  a 'virtuous  and  ac 
complished  maiden,  who  so  fired  the  enthusiasm  of 
her  contemporaries,  by  her  enchanting  form,  that 
the  citizens  of  her  native  city  of  Toulouse  obtained 
the  aid  of  the  civil  authorities  to  compel  her  to  ap 
pear  publicly  on  the  balcony  at  least  twice  a  week, 
and,  as  often  as  she  showed  herself,  the  crowd  was 
dangerous  to  life.  Not  less,  in  England,  in  the  last 
century,  was  the  fame  of  the  Gunnings,  of  whom, 
Elizabeth  married  the  Duke  of  Hamilton ;  and 
.Maria,  the  Earl  of  Coventry.  Walpole  says,  "  the 
concourse  was  so  great,  when  the  Duchess  of  Ham 
ilton  was  presented  at  court,  on  Friday,  that  even 
the  noble  crowd  in  the  drawing-room  clambered  on 
chairs  and  tables  to  look  at  her.  There  are  mobs 
at  their  doors  to  see  them  get  into  their  chairs,  and 
people  go  early  to  get  places  at  the  theatres,  when 
it  is  known  they  will  be  there."  "  Such  crowds,"  he 
adds,  elsewhere,  "  flock  to  see  the  Duchess  of  Ham 
ilton,  that  seven  hundred  people  sat  up  all  night,  in 


262  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

and  about  an  inn,  in  Yorkshire,  to  see  her  get  into 
her  post-chaise  next  morning." 

But  why  need  we  console  ourselves  with  the 
fames  of  Helen  of  Argos,  or  Corinna,  or  Pauline  of 
Toulouse,  or  the  Duchess  of  Hamilton  ?  We  all 
know  this  magic  very  well,  or  can  divine  it.  It 
does  not  hurt  weak  eyes  to  look  into  beautiful  eyes 
never  so  long.  Women  stand  related  to  beautiful 
Nature  around  us,  and  the  enamored  youth  mixes 
their  form  with  moon  and  stars,  with  woods  and 
waters,  and  the  pomp  of  summer.  They  heal  us 
of  awkwardness  by  their  words  and  looks.  We  ob 
serve  their  intellectual  influence  on  the  most  serious 
student.  They  refine  and  clear  his  mind  ;  teach 
him  to  put  a  pleasing  method  into  what  is  dry  and 
difficult.  We  talk  to  them,  and  wish  to  be  listened 
to  ;  we  fear  to  fatigue  them,  and  acquire  a  facility 
of  expression  which  passes  from  conversation  into 
habit  of  style. 

That  Beauty  is  the  normal  state,  is  shown  by  the 
perpetual  effort  of  Nature  to  attain  it.  Mirabeau 
had  an  ugly  face  on  a  handsome  ground ;  and  we 
see  faces  every  day  which  have  a  good  type,  but 
have  been  marred  in  the  casting :  a  proof  that  we 
are  all  entitled  to  beauty,  should  have  been  beau 
tiful,  if  our  ancestors  had  kept  the  laws,  —  as  every 
lily  and  every  rose  is  well.  But  our  bodies  do  not 
fit  us,  but  caricature  and  satirize  us.  Thus,  short 
legs,  which  constrain  us  to  short,  mincing  steps,  are 


BEAUTY.  263 

a  kind  of  personal  insult  and  contumely  to  "the 
owner  ;  and  long  stilts,  again,  put  him  at  perpetual 
disadvantage,  and  force  him  to  stoop  to  the  general 
level  of  mankind.  Martial  ridicules  a  gentleman 
of  his  day  whose  countenance  resembled  the  face 
of  a  swimmer  seen  under  water.  Saadi  describes 
a  schoolmaster  "  so  ugly  and  crabbed,  that  a  sight 
of  him  would  derange  the  ecstasies  of  the  ortho 
dox."  Faces  are  rarely  true  to  any  ideal  type,  but 
are  a  record  in  sculpture  of  a  thousand  anecdotes 
of  whim  and  folly.  Portrait  painters  say  that  most 
faces  and  forms  are  irregular  and  unsymmetrical ; 
have  one  eye  blue,  and  one  gray;  the  nose  not 
straight;  and  one  shoulder  higher  than  another;  the 
hair  unequally  distributed,  etc.  The  man  is  phys 
ically  as  well  as  metaphysically  a  thing  of  shreds 
uild  patches,  borrowed  unequally  from  good  and 
bad  ancestors,  and  a  misfit  from  the  start. 

A  beautiful  person,  among  the  Greeks,  was 
tli ought  "to  betray  by  this  sign  some  secret  favor 
of  the  immortal  gods:  and  we  can  pardon  pride, 
when  a  woman  possesses  such  a  figure,  that  wher 
ever  she  stands,  or  moves,  or  leaves  a  shadow  on 
the  wall,  or  sits  for  a  portrait  to  the  artist,  she 
confers  a  favor  on  the  world.  And  yet  —  it 
is  not  beauty  that  inspires  the  deepest  passion. 
Beauty  without  grace  is  the  hook  without  the  bait. 
Beauty,  without  expression,  tires.  Abbe  Menage 
said  of  the  President  Le  Bailleul,  "  that  he  was  fit 


264  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

for  nothing  but  to  sit  for  his  portrait."  A  Greek 
epigram  intimates  that  the  force  of  love  is  not 
shown  by  the  courting  of  beauty,  but  when  the 
like  desire  is  inflamed  for  one  who  is  ill-favored. 
And  petulant  old  gentlemen,  who  have  chanced  to 
suffer  some  intolerable  weariness  from  pretty  people, 
or  who  have  seen  cut  flowers  to  some  profusion,  or 
who  see,  after  a  world  of  pains  have  been  success 
fully  taken  for  the  costume,  how  the  least  mistake 
in  sentiment  takes  all  the  beauty  out  of  your 
clothes,  —  affirm,  that  the  secret  of  ugliness  consists 
not  in  irregularity,  but  in  being  uninteresting. 

We  love  any  forms,  however  ugly,  from  which 
great  qualities  shine.  If  command,  eloquence,  art, 
or  invention,  exist  in  the  most  deformed  person, 
all  the  accidents  that  usually  displease,  please,  and 
raise  esteem  and  wonder  higher.  The  great  orator 
was  an  emaciated,  insignificant  person,  but  he  was 
all  brain.  Cardinal  De  Retz  says  of  De  Bouillon, 
"  With  the  physiognomy  of  an  ox,  he  had  the 
perspicacity  of  an  eagle."  It  was  said  of  Hooke, 
the  friend  of  Newton,  "  he  is  the  most,  and  prom 
ises  the  least,  of  any  man  in  England."  "  Since 
I  am  so  ugly,"  said  Du  Guesclin,  "  it  behooves  that 
I  be  bold."  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  the  darling  of  man 
kind,  Ben  Jonson  tells  us,  "  was  no  pleasant  man  in 
countenance,  his  face  being  spoiled  with  pimples, 
and  of  high  blood,  and  long."  Those  who  have 
ruled  human  destinies,  like  planets,  for  thousands 


BEAUTY.  265 

of  years,  were  not  handsome  men.  If  a  man  can 
raise  a  small  city  to  be  a  great  kingdom,  can  make 
bread  cheap,  can  irrigate  deserts,  can  join  oceans  by 
canals,  can  subdue  steam,  can  organize  victory,  can 
lead  the  opinions  of  mankind,  can  enlarge  knowl 
edge,  'tis  no  matter  whether  his  nose  is  parallel  to 
his  spine,  as  it  ought  to  be,  or  whether  he  has 
a  nose  at  all ;  whether  his  legs  are  straight,  or 
whether  his  legs  are  amputated ;  his  deformities 
will  come  to  be  reckoned  ornamental,  and  advan 
tageous  on  the  whole.  This  is  the  triumph  of 
expression,  degrading  beauty,  charming  us  with  a 
power  so  fine  and  friendly  and  intoxicating,  that  it 
makes  admired  persons  insipid,  and  the  thought  of 
passing  our  lives  with  them  insupportable.  There 
are  faces  so  fluid  with  expression,  so  flushed  and 
rippled  by  the  play  of  thought,  that  we  can  hardly 
find  what  the  mere  features  really  are.  When 
the  delicious  beauty  of  lineaments  loses  its  power, 
it  is  because  a  more  delicious  beauty  has  appeared  ; 
that  an  interior  and  durable  form  has  been  disclosed. 
Still,  Beauty  rides  on  her  lion,  as  before.  Still,  "  it 
was  for  beauty  that  the  world  was  made."  The 
lives  o£  the  Italian  artists,  who  established  a  despot 
ism  of  genius  amidst  the  dukes  and  kings  and  mobs 
of  their  stormy  epoch,  prove  how  loyal  men  in  all 
times  are  to  a  finer  brain,  a  finer  method,  than  their 
own.  If  a  man  can  cut  such  a  head  on  his  stone 
gate-post  as  shall  draw  and  keep  a  crowd  about  it 
12 


266  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

all  day,  by  its  beauty,  good  nature,  and  inscrutable 
meaning  ;  —  if  a  man  can  build  a  plain  cottage  with 
sucli  symmetry,  as  to  make  all  the  fine  palaces 
look  cheap  and  vulgar ;  can  take  such  advantage 
of  Nature,  that  all  her  powers  serve  him  ;  making 
use  of  geometry,  instead  of  expense  ;  tapping  a 
mountain  for  his  water-jet ;  causing  the  sun  and 
moon  to  seem  only  the  decorations  of  his  estate; 
this  is  still  the  legitimate  dominion  of  beauty. 

The  radiance  of  the  human  form,  though  some 
times  astonishing,  is  only  a  burst  of  beauty  for  a 
few  years  or  a  few  months,  at  the  perfection  of 
youth,  and  in  most,  rapidly  declines.  But  we  re 
main  lovers  of  it,  only  transferring  our  interest  to 
interior  excellence.  And  it -is  not  only  admirable 
in  singular  and  salient  talents,  but  also  in  the  world 
of  manners. 

But  the  sovereign  attribute  remains  to  be  noted. 
Things  are  pretty,  graceful,  rich,  elegant,  hand 
some,  but,  until  they  speak  to  the  imagination,  not 
yet  beautiful.  This  is  the  reason  why  beauty  is 
still  escaping  out  of  all  analysis.  It  is  not  yet 
possessed,  it  cannot  be  handled.  Proclus  says,  "  it 
swims  on  the  light  of  forms."  It  is  properly  not  in 
the  form,  but  in  the  mind.  It  instantly  deserts  pos 
session,  and  flies  to  an  object  in  the  horizon.  If  I 
could  put  my  hand  on  the  north  star,  would  it  be 
as  beautiful  ?  The  sea  is  lovely,  but  when  we  bathe 
in  it,  the  beauty  forsakes  all  the  near  water.  For 


BEAUTY.  267 

the  imagination  and  senses  cannot  be  gratified  at 
the  same  tinle.  •  Wordsworth  rightly  speaks  of  "  a 
light  that  never  was  on  sea  or  land,"  meaning,  that 
it  was  supplied  by  the  observer,  and  the  Welsh 
bard  warns  his  countrywomen,  that 

—  "half  of  their  charms  with  Cadwallon  shall  die." 

The  new  virtue  which  constitutes  a  thing  beautiful, 
is  a  certain  cosmical  quality,  or,  a  power  to  suggest 
relation  to  the  whole  world,  and  so  lift  the  object 
out  of  a  pitiful  individuality.  Every  natural  feat 
ure,  —  sea,  sky,  rainbow,  flowers,  musical  tone,  — 
has  in  it  somewhat  which  is  not  private,  but  uni 
versal,  speaks  of  that  central  benefit  which  is  the 
soul  of  Nature,  and  thereby  is  beautiful.  And,  in 
chosen  men  and  women,  I  find  somewhat  in  form, 
speech,  and  manners,  which  is  not  of  their  person 
and  family,  but  of  a  humane,  catholic,  and  spiritual 
character,  and  we  love  them  as  the  sky.  They 
have  a  largeness  of  suggestion,  and  their  fc.ce  and 
manners  carry  a  certain  grandeur,  like  time  and 
justice. 

The  feat  of  the  imagination  is  in  showing  the 
convertibility  of  every  thing  into  every  other  thing. 
Facts  which  had  never  before  left  their  stark  com 
mon  sense,  suddenly  figure  as  Eleusinian  mysteries. 
My  boots  and  chair  and  candlestick  are  fairies  in 
disguise,  meteors  and  constellations.  All  the  facts 
in  Nature  are  nouns  of  the  intellect,  and  make 


268  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

the  grammar  of  the  eternal  language.  Every  word 
has  a  double,  treble,  or  centuple  use  and  meaning. 
What !  has  my  stove  and  pepper-pot  a  false  bottom  ! 
I  cry  you  mercy,  good  shoe-box !  I  did  not  know 
you  were  a  jewel-case.  Chaff  and  dust  begin  to 
sparkle,  and  are  clothed  about  with  immortality. 
And  there  is  a  joy  in  perceiving  the  representative 
or  symbolic  character  of  a  fact,  which  no  bare  fact 
or  event  can  ever  give.  There  are  no  days  in 
life  so  memorable  as  those  which  vibrated,  to  some 
stroke  of  the  imagination. 

The  poets  are  quite  right  in  decking  their  mis 
tresses  with  the  spoils  of  the  landscape,  flower- 
gardens,  gems,  rainbows,  flushes  of  morning,  and 
stars  of  night,  since  all  beauty  points  at  identity, 
and  whatsoever  thing  does  not  express  to  me  the 
sea  and  sky,  day  and  night,  is  somewhat  forbidden 
and  wrong.  Into  every  beautiful  object,  there  en 
ters  somewhat  immeasurable  and  divine,  and  just 
as  much  into  form  bounded  by  outlines,  like  moun 
tains  on  the  horizon,  as  into  tones  of  music,  or 
depths  of  space.  Polarized  light  showed  the  secret 
architecture  of  bodies  ;  and  when  the  second- sight 
of  the  mind  is  opened,  now  one  color  or  form  or 
gesture,  and  now  another,  has  a  pungency,  as  if  .a 
more  interior  ray  had  been  emitted,  disclosing  its 
deep  holdings  in  the  frame  of  things. 

The  laws  of  this  translation  we  do  not  knqw,  or 
why  one  feature  or  gesture  enchants,  why  one  word 


BEAUTY.  269 

or  syllable  intoxicates,  but  the  fact  is  familiar  that 
the  fine  touch  of  the  eye,  or  a  grace  of  manners,  or 
a  phrase  of  poetry,  plants  wings  at  our  shoulders  ; 
as  if  the  Divinity,  in  his  approaches,  lifts  away 
mountains  of  obstruction,  and  deigns  to  draw  a 
truer  line,  which  the  mind  knows  and  owns.  This 
is  that  haughty  force  of  beauty,  "  vis  superba 
formce,"  which  the  poets  praise,  —  under  calm 
and  precise  outline,  the  immeasurable  and  divine  : 
Beauty  hiding  all  wisdom  and  power  in  its  calm 
sky. 

All  high  beauty  has  a  moral  element  in  it,  and 
I  find  the  antique  sculpture  as  ethical  as  Marcus 
Antoninus  :  and  the  beauty  ever  in  proportion  to 
the  depth  of  thought.  Gross  and  obscure  natures, 
however  decorated,  seem  impure  shambles  ;  but 
character  gives  splendor  to  youth,  and  awe  to 
wrinkled  skin  and  gray  hairs.  An  adorer  of  truth 
we  cannot  choose  but  obey,  and  the  woman  who 
has  shared  with  us  the  moral  sentiment,  —  her  locks 
must  appear  to  us  sublime.  Thus  there  is  a  climb 
ing  scale  of  culture,  from  the  first  agreeable  sensa 
tion  which  a  sparkling  gem  or  a  scarlet  stain  affords 
the  eye,  up  through  fair  outlines  and  details  of  the 
landscape,  features  of  the  human  face  and  form, 
signs  and  tokens  of  thought  and  character  in  man 
ners,  up  to  the  ineffable  mysteries  of  the  intellect. 
•Wherever  we  begin,  thither  our  steps  tend  :  an 
ascent  from  the  joy  of  a  horse  in  his  trappings,  up 


270  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

to  the  perception  of  Newton,  that  the  globe  on 
which  we  ride  is  only  .a  larger  apple  falling  from 
a  larger  tree ;  up  to  the  perception  of  Plato,  that 
globe  and  universe  are  rude  and  early  expressions 
of  an  all-dissolving  Unity,  —  the  first  stair  on  the 
scale  to  the  temple  of  the  Mind. 


IX. 

ILLUSIONS. 


FLOW,  flow  the  waves  hated, 

Accursed,  adored, 

The  waves  of  mutation  : 

No  anchorage  is. 

Sleep  is  not,  death  is  not; 

Who  seem  to  die  live. 

House  you  were  born  in, 

Friends  of  your  spring-time, 

Old  man  and  young  maid, 

Day's  toil  and  its  guerdon, 

They  are  all  vanishing, 

Fleeing  to  fables, 

Cannot  be  moored. 

See  the  stars  through  them, 

Through  treacherous  marbles. 

Know,  the  stars  yonder 

The  stars  everlasting, 

Are  fugitive  also, 

And  emulate,  vaulted, 

The  lambent  heat-lightning, 

And  fire-fly's  flight. 


272  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

When  thou  dost  return 
On  the  wave's  circulation, 
Beholding  the  shimmer, 
The  wild  dissipation, 
And,  out  of  endeavor 
To  change  and  to  flow, 
The  gas  become  solid, 
And  phantoms  and  nothings 
Return  to  be  things, 
And  endless  imbroglio 
Is  law  and  the  world, — 
Then  first  shalt  thou  know, 
That  in  the  wild  turmoil, 
Horsed  on  the  Proteus, 
Thou  ridest  to  power, 
And  to  endurance. 


ILLUSIONS. 

SOME  years  ago,  in  company  with  an  agreeable 
party,  I  spent  a  long  summer  day  in  exploring 
the  Mammoth  Cave  in  Kentucky.  We  traversed, 
through  spacious  galleries  affording  a  solid  masonry 
foundation  for  the  town  and  county  overhead,  the 
six  or  eight  black  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  cav 
ern  to  the  innermost  recess  which  tourists  visit,  —  a 
niche  or  grotto  made  of  one  seamless  stalactite,  and 
called,  I  believe,  Serena's  Bower.  I  lost  the  light 
of  one  day.  I  saw  high  domes,  and  bottomless  pits ; 
heard  the  voice  of  unseen  waterfalls ;  paddled  three 
quarters  of  a  mile  in  the  deep  Echo  River,  whose 
waters  are  peopled  with  the  blind  fish ;  crossed  the 
streams  "  Lethe  "  and  "  Styx ;  "  plied  with  music 
and  guns  the  echoes  in  these  alarming  galleries  ; 
saw  every  form  of  stalagmite  and  stalactite  in  the 
sculptured  and  fretted  chambers,  —  icicle,  orange- 
flower,  acanthus,  grapes,  and  snowball.  We  shot 
Bengal  lights  into  the  vaults  and  groins  of  the 
sparry  cathedrals,  and  examined  all  the  master 
pieces  which  the  four  combined  engineers,  water, 
limestone,  gravitation,  and  time,  could  make  in  the 
dark. 

12* 


274  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

The  mysteries  and  scenery  of  the  cave  had  the 
same  dignity  that  belongs  to  all  natural  objects, 
and  which  shames  the  fine  things  to  which  we  fop 
pishly  compare  them.  I  remarked,  especially,  the 
mimetic  habit,  with  which  Nature,  on  new  instru 
ments,  hums  her  old  tunes,  making  night  to  mimic 
day,  and  chemistry  to  ape  vegetation.  But  I  then 
took  notice,  and  still  chiefly  remember,  that  the 
best  thing  which  the  cave  had  to  offer  was  an  illu 
sion.  On  arriving  at  what  is  called  the  "  Star- 
Chamber,"  our  lamps  were  taken  from  us  by  the 
guide,  and  extinguished  or  put  aside,  and,  on  look 
ing  upwards,  I  saw  or  seemed  to  see  the  night 
heaven  thick  with  stars  glimmering  more  or  less 
brightly  over  our  heads,  and  even  what  seemed  a 
comet  flaming  among  them.  All  the  party  were 
touched  with  astonishment  and  pleasure.  Our 
musical  friends  sung  with  much  feeling  a  pretty 
song,  "  The  stars  are  in  the  quiet  sky,"  &c.,  and  I 
sat  down  on  the  rocky  floor  to  enjoy  the  serene  pic 
ture.  Some  crystal  specks  in  the  black  ceiling  high 
overhead,  reflecting  the  light  of  a  half-hid  lamp, 
yielded  this  magnificent  effect. 

I  own,  I  did  not  like  the  cave  so  well  for  eking 
out  its  sublimities  with  this  theatrical  trick.  But  I 
have  had  many  experiences  like  it,  before  and  since ; 
and  we  must  be  content  to  be  pleased  without  too 
curiously  analyzing  the  occasions.  Our  conversa 
tion  with  Nature  is  not  just  what  it  seems.  The 


ILLUSIONS.  275 

cloud-rack,  the  sunrise  and  sunset  glories,  rainbows, 
and  northern  lights  are  not  quite  so  spheral  as  our 
childhood  thought  them  ;  and  the  part  our  organ 
ization  plays  in  them  is  too  large.  The  senses 
interfere  everywhere,  and  mix  their  own  structure 
with  all  they  report  of.  Once,  we  fancied  the  earth 
a  plane,  and  stationary.  In  admiring  the  sunset, 
we  do  not  yet  deduct  the  rounding,  coordinating, 
pictorial  powers  of  the  eye. 

The  same  interference  from  our  organization  cre 
ates  the  most  of  our  pleasure  and  pain.  Our  first 
mistake  is  the  belief  that  the  circumstance  gives  the 
joy  which  we  give  to  the  circumstance.  Life  is  an 
ecstasy.  Life  is  sweet  as  nitrous  oxide ;  and  the 
fisherman  dripping  all  day  over  a  cold  pond,  the 
switchman  at  the  railway  intersection,  the  farmer  in 
the  field,  the  negro  in  the  rice-swamp,  the  fop  in  the 
street,  the  hunter  in  the  woods,  the  barrister  with 
the  jury,  the  belle  at  the  ball,  all  ascribe  a  certain 
pleasure  to  their  employment,  which  they  them 
selves  give  it.  Health  and  appetite  impart  the 
sweetness  to  sugar,  bread,  and  meat.  We  fancy 
that  our  civilization  has  got  on  far,  but  we  still 
come  back  to  our  primers. 

We  live  by  our  imaginations,  by  our  admirations, 
by  our  sentiments.  The  child  walks  amid  heaps  of 
illusions,  which  he  does  not  like  to  have  disturbed. 
The  boy,  how  sweet  to  him  is  his  fancy !  how  dear 
the  story  of  barons  and  battles  !  What  a  hero  he 


276  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

is,  whilst  he  feeds  on  his  heroes !  What  a  debt  is 
his  to  imaginative  books  !  He  has  no  better  friend 
or  influence,  than  Scott,  Shakspeare,  Plutarch,  and 
Homer.  The  man  lives  to  other  objects,  but  who 
dare  affirm  that  they  are  more  real  ?  Even  the 
prose  of  the  streets  is  full  of  refractions.  In  the 
life  of  the  dreariest  alderman,  fancy  enters  into  all 
details,  and  colors  them  with  rosy  hue.  He  imi 
tates  the  air  and  actions  of  people  whom  he  ad 
mires,  and  is  raised  in  his  own  eyes.  He  pays  a 
debt  quicker  to  a  rich  man  than  to  a  poor  man. 
He  wishes  the  bow  and  compliment  of  some  leader 
in  the  state,  or  in  society  ;  weighs  what  he  says  ; 
perhaps  he  never  comes  nearer  to  him  for  that,  but 
dies  at  last  better  contented  for  this  amusement  of 
his  eyes  and  his  fancy. 

The  world  rolls,  the  din  of  life  is  never  hushed. 
In  London,  in  Paris,  in  Boston,  in  San  Francisco, 
the  carnival,  the  masquerade  is  at  its  height.  No 
body  drops  his  domino.  The  unities,  the  fictions 
of  the  piece  it  would  be  an  impertinence  to  break. 
The  chapter  of  fascinations  is  very  long.  Great  is 
paint ;  nay,  God  k  the  painter ;  and  we  rightly 
accuse  the  critic  who  destroys  too  many  illusions. 
Society  does  not  love  its  unmaskers.  It  was  wittily, 
if  somewhat  bitterly,  said  by  D'Alembert,  "  qu'un 
£tat  de  vapeur  etait  un  Stat  tres  fdcheux,  parcequ'il 
nous  faisait  voir  les  choses  comme  elles  sont."  I  find 
men  victims  of  illusion  in  all  parts  of  life.  Chil- 


ILLUSIONS.  277 

dren,  youths,  adults,  and  old  men,  all  are  led  by 
one  bawble  or  another.  Yoganidra,  the  goddess  of 
illusion,  Proteus,  or  Momus,  or  Gylfi's  Mocking,  — 
for  the  Power  has  many  names,  —  is  stronger  than 
the  Titans,  stronger  than  Apollo.  Few  have  over 
heard  the  gods,  or  surprised  their  secret.  £  Life  is 
a  succession  of  lessons  which  must  be  lived  to  be 
understood.  All  is  riddle,  and  the  key  to  a  riddle 
is  another  riddle.  There  are  as  many  pillows 
of  illusion  as  flakes  in  a  snow-storm.  We  wake 
from  one  dream  into  another  dream.  The  toys,  to 
be  sure,  are  various,  and  are  graduated  in  refine 
ment  to  the  quality  of  the  dupe.  The  intellectual 
man  requires  a  fine  bait ;  the  sots  are  easily  amused. 
But  everybody  is  drugged  with  his  own  frenzy,  and 
the  pageant  marches  at  all  hours,  with  music  and 
banner  and  badge. 

Amid  the  joyous  troop  who  give  in  to  the  chari 
vari,  comes  now  and  then  a  sad-eyed  boy,  whose 
eyes  lack  the  requisite  refractions  to  clothe  the 
show  in  due  glory,  and  who  is  afflicted  with  a  ten 
dency  to  trace  home  the  glittering  miscellany  of 
fruits  and  flowers  to  one  root.  Science  is  a  search 
after  identity,  and  the  scientific  whim  is  lurking  in 
all  corners.  At  the  State  Fair,  a  friend  of  mine 
complained  that  all  the  varieties  of  fancy  pears  in 
our  orchards  seem  to  have  been  selected  by  some 
body  who  had  a  whim  for  a  particular  kind  of  pear, 
and  only  cultivated  such  as  had  that  perfume  ;  they 


278  CONDUCT   OF   LIFE. 

were  all  alike.  And  I  remember  the  quarrel  of  an 
other  youth  with  the  confectioners,  that,  when  he 
racked  his  wit  to  choose  the  best  comfits  in  the 
shops,  in  all  the  endless  varieties  of  sweetmeat  he 
could  only  find  three  flavors,  or  two.  What  then  ? 
Pears  and  cakes  are  good  for  something  ;  and  be 
cause  you,  unluckily,  have  an  eye  or  nose  too  keen, 
why  need  you  spoil  the  comfort  which  the  rest  of  us 
find  in  them  ?  I  knew  a  humorist,  who,  in  a  good 
deal  of  rattle,  had  a  grain  or  two  of  sense.  He 
shocked  the  company  by  maintaining  that  the  attri 
butes  of  God  were  two,  —  power  and  risibility;  and 
that  it  was  the  duty  of  every  pious  man  to  keep  up 
the  comedy.  And  I  have  known  gentlemen  of 
great  stake  in  the  community,  but  whose  sympa 
thies  were  cold,  —  presidents  of  colleges,  and  gov 
ernors,  and  senators,  —  who  held  themselves  bound 
to  sign  every  temperance  pledge,  and  act  with  Bible 
societies,  and  missions,  and  peace-makers,  and  cry 
Hist-a-boy!  to  every  good  dog.  We  must  not  carry 
comity  too  far,  but  we  all  have  kind  impulses  in  this 
direction.  When  the  boys  come  into  my  yard  for 
leave  to  gather  horse-chestnuts,  I  own  I  enter  into 
Nature's  game,  and  affect  to  grant  the  permission 
reluctantly,  fearing  that  any  moment  they  will  find 
out  the  imposture  of  that  showy  chaff.  But  this 
tenderness  is  quite  unnecessary ;  the  enchantments 
are  laid  on  very  thick.  Their  young  life  is  thatched 
with  them.  Bare  and  grim  to  tears  is  the  lot  of  the 


ILLUSIONS.  279 

children  in  the  hovel  I  saw  yesterday  ;  yet  not  the 
less  they  hung  it  round  with  frippery  romance,  like 
the  children  of  the  happiest  fortune,  and  talked  of 
"  the  dear  cottage  where  so  many  joyful  hours  had 
flown."  Well,  this  thatching  of  Kbvels  is  the  cus 
tom  of  the  country.  Women,  more  than  all,  are 
the  element  and  kingdom  of  illusion.  Being  fasci 
nated,  they  fascinate.  They  see  through  Claude- 
Lorraines.  And  how  dare  any  one,  if  he  could, 
pluck  away  the  coulisses,  stage  effects,  and  cere 
monies,  by  which  they  live  ?  Too  pathetic,  too 
pitiable,  is  the  region  of  affection,  and  its  atmos 
phere  always  liable  to  mirage. 

We  are  not  very  much  to  blame  for  our  bad 
marriages.  We  live  amid  hallucinations  ;  and  this 
especial  trap  is  laid  to  trip  up  our  feet  with,  and  all 
are  tripped  up  first  or  last.  But  the  mighty  Mother 
who  had  been  so  sly  with  us,  as  if  she  felt  that 
she  owed  us  some  indemnity,  insinuates  into  the 
Pandora-box  of  marriage  some  deep  and  serious 
benefits,  and  some  great  joys.  We  find  a  delight 
in  the  beauty  and  happiness  of  children,  that  makes 
the  heart  too  big  for  the  body.  In  the  worst- 
assorted  connections  there  is  ever  some  mixture 
of  true  marriage.  Teague  and  his  jade  get  some 
just  relations  of  mutual  respect,  kindly  observation, 
and  fostering  of  each  other,  learn  something,  and 
would  carry  themselves  wiselier,  if  they  were  now 
to  begin. 


280  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

*  'Tis  fine  for  us  to  point  at  one  or  another  fine 
madman,  as  if  there  were  any  exempts.  The 
scholar  in  his  library  is  none.  I,  who  have  all 
my  life  heard  any  number  of  orations  and  debates, 
read  poems  arid  miscellaneous  books,  conversed 
with  many  geniuses,  am  still  the  victim  of  any  new 
page  ;  and,  if  Marmaduke,  or  Hugh,  or  Moosehead, 
or  any  other,  invent  a  new  style  or  mythology,  I 
fancy  that  the  world  will  be  all  brave  and  right,  if 
dressed  in  these  colors,  which  I  had  not  thought  of. 
Then  at  once  I  will  daub  with  this  new  paint ;  but 
it  will  not  stick.  'Tis  like  the  cement  which  the 
peddler  sells  at  the  door ;  he  makes  broken  crock 
ery  hold  with  it,  but  you  can  never  buy  of  him  a 
bit  of  the  cement  which  will  make  it  hold  when  he 
is  gone. 

Men  who  make  themselves  felt  in  the  world  avail 
themselves  of  a  certain  fate  in  their  constitution, 
which  they  know  how  to  use.  But  they  never 
deeply  interest  us,  unless  they  lift  a  corner  of  the 
curtain,  or  betray  never  so  slightly  their  penetration 
of  what  is  behind  it.  'Tis  the  charm  of  practical 
men,  that  outside  of  their  practicality  are  a  cer 
tain  poetry  and  play,  as  if  they  led  the  good  horse 
Power  by  the  bridle,  and  preferred  to  walk,  though 
they  can  ride  so  fiercely.  Bonaparte  is  intellectual, 
as  well  as  Cassar;  and  the  best  soldiers,  sea-captains, 
and  railway  men  have  a  gentleness,  when  off  duty ; 
a  good-natured  admission  that  there  are  illusions, 


ILLUSIONS.  281 

and  who  shall  say  that  he  is  not  their  sport  ?  We 
stigmatize  the  cast-iron  fellows,  who  cannot  so  de 
tach  themselves,  as  "  dragon-ridden,"  "  thunder- 
stricken,"  and  fools  of  fate,  with  whatever  powers 
endowed. 

Since  our  tuition  is  through  emblems  and  indi 
rections,  'tis  well  to  know  that  there  is  method  in 
it,  a  fixed  scale,  and  rank  above  rank  in  the  phan 
tasms.  We  begin  low  with  coarse  masks,  and  rise 
to  the  most  subtle  and  beautiful.  The  red  men  told 
Columbus,  "  they  had  an  herb  which  took  away  fa 
tigue  ; "  but  he  found  the  illusion  of  "  arriving  from 
the  east  at  the  Indies  "  more  composing  to  his  lofty 
spirit  than  any  tobacco.  Is  not  our  faith  in  the 
impenetrability  of  matter  more  sedative  than  nar 
cotics  ?  You  play  with  jackstraws,  balls,  bowls, 
horse  and  gun,  estates  and  politics  ;  but  there  are 
finer  games  before  you.  Is  not  time  a  pretty  toy  ? 
Life  will  show  you  masks  that  are  worth  all  your 
carnivals.  Yonder  mountain  must  migrate  into 
your  mind.  The  fine  star-dust  and  nebulous  blur 
in  Orion,  "  the  portentous  year  of  Mizar  and  Al- 
cor,"  must  come  down  and  be  dealt  with  in  your 
household  thought.  What  if  you  shall  come  to  dis 
cern  that  the  play  and  playground  of  all  this  pom 
pous  history  are  radiations  from  yourself,  and  that 
the  sun  borrows  his  beams  ?  What  terrible  ques 
tions  we  are  learning  to  ask  !  The  former  men  be 
lieved  in  magic,  by  which  temples,  cities,  and  men 


282  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

were  swallowed  up,  and  all  trace  of  them  gone. 
We  are  coming  on  the  secret  of  a  magic  which 
sweeps  out  of  men's  minds  all  vestige  of  theism  and 
beliefs  which  they  and  their  fathers  held  and  were 
framed  upon. 

There  are  deceptions  of  the  senses,  deceptions  of 
the  passions,  and  the  structural,  beneficent  illusions 
of  sentiment  and  of  the  intellect.  There  is  the 
illusion  of  love,  which  attributes  to  the  beloved 
person  all  which  that  person  shares  with  his  or  her 
family,  sex,  age,  or  condition,  nay,  with  the  human 
mind  itself.  'Tis  these  which  the  lover  loves,  and 
Anna  Matilda  gets  the  credit  of  them.  As  if  one 

O 

shut  up  always  in  a  tower,  with  one  window, 
through  which  the  face  of  heaven  and  earth  could 
be  seen,  should  fancy  that  all  the  marvels  he  beheld 
belonged  to  that  window.  There  is  the  illusion  of 
time,  which  is  very  deep  ;  who  has  disposed  of  it  ? 
or  come  to  the  conviction  that  what  seems  the  suc 
cession  of  thought  is  only  the  distribution  of  wholes 
into  causal  series?  The  intellect  sees  that  every 
atom  carries  the  whole  of  Nature  ;  that  the  mind 
opens  to  omnipotence ;  that,  in  the  endless  striving 
and  ascents,  the  metamorphosis  is  entire,  so  that  the 
soul  doth  not  know  itself  in  its  own  act,  when  that 
act  is  perfected.  There  is  illusion  that  shall  de 
ceive  even  the  elect.  There  is  illusion  that  shall 
deceive  even  the  performer  of  the  miracle.  Though 
he  make  his  body,  he  denies  that  he  makes  it. 


ILLUSIONS.  •          283 

% 

Though  the  world  exist  from  thought,  thought  is 
daunted  in  presence  of  the  world.  One  after  the 
other  we  accept  the  mental  laws,  still  resisting  those 
which  follow,  which  however  must  be  accepted. 
But  all  our  concessions  only  compel  us  to  new  pro 
fusion.  And  what  avails  it  that  science  has  come 
to  treat  space  and  time  as  simply  forms  of  thought, 
and  the  material  world  as  hypothetical,  and  withal 
our  pretension  of  property  and  even  of  self-hood 
are  fading  with  the  rest,  if,  at  last,  even  our 
thoughts  are  not  finalities ;  but  the  incessant  flow 
ing  and  ascension  reach  these  also,  and  each 
thought  which  yesterday  was  a  finality,  to-day  is 
yielding  to  a  larger  generalization  ? 

With  such  volatile  elements  to  work  in,  'tis  no 
wonder  if  our  estimates  are  loose  and  floating.  We 
must  work  and  affirm,  but  we  have  no  guess  of  the 
value  of  what  we  say  or  do.  The  cloud  is  now 
as  big  as  your  hand,  and  now  it  covers  a  county. 
That  story  of  Thor,  who  was  set  to  drain  the 
drinking-horn  in  Asgard,  and  to  wrestle  with  the 
old  woman,  and  to  run  with  the  runner  Lok,  and 
presently  found  that  he  had  been  drinking  up  the 
sea,  and  wrestling  with  Time,  and  racing  with 
Thought,  describes  us  who  are  contending,  amid 
these  seeming  trifles,  with  the  supreme  energies  of 
Nature.  We  fancy  we  have  fallen  into  bad  com 
pany  and  squalid  condition,  low  debts,  shoe-bills, 
broken  glass  to  pay  for,  pots  to  buy,  butcher's  meat, 


284  CONDUCT   OF  LIFE. 

sugar,  milk,  and  coal.  '  Set  me  some  great  task, 
ye  gods  !  and  I  will  show  my  spirit.'  '  Not  so,' 
says  the  good  Heaven  ;  '  plod  and  plough,  vamp 
your  old  coats  and  hats,  weave  a  shoestring ;  great 
affairs  and  the  best  wine  by  and  by.'  Well,  'tis  all 
phantasm  ;  and  if  we  weave  a  yard  of  tape  in  all 
humility,  and  as  well  as  we  can,  long  hereafter  we 
shall  see  it  was  no  cotton  tape  at  all,  but  some 
galaxy  which  we  braided,  and  that  the  threads  were 
Time  and  Nature. 

We  cannot- write  the  order  of  the  variable  winds. 
How  can  we  penetrate  the  law  of  our  shifting  moods 
and  susceptibility  ?  Yet  they  differ  as  all  and  noth 
ing.  Instead  of  the  firmament  of  yesterday,  which 
our  eyes  require,  it  is  to-day  an  eggshell  which 
coops  us  in ;  we  cannot  even  see  what  or  where  our 
stars  of  destiny  are.  From  day  to  day,  the  capital 
facts  of  human  life  are  hidden  from  our  eyes.  Sud 
denly  the  mist  rolls  up,  and  reveals  them,  and  we 
think  how  much  good  time  is  gone,  that  might 
have  been  saved,  had  any  hint  of  these  things  been 
shown.  A  sudden  rise  in  the  road  shows  us  the 
system  of  mountains,  and  all  the  summits,  which 
have  been  iust  as  near  us  all  the  year,  but  quite  out 
of  mind^J  But  these  alternations  are  not  without 
their  order,  and  we  are  parties  to  our  various  for 
tune.  If  life  seem  a  succession  of  dreams,  yet 
poetic  justice  is  done  in  dreams  also.  The  visions 
of  good  men  are  good  ;  it  is  the  undisciplined  will 


ILLUSIONS.  285 

that  is  whipped  with  bad  thoughts  and  bad  fortunes. 
When  we  break  the  laws,  we  lose  our  hold  on  the 
central  reality.  Like  sick  men  in  hospitals,  we 
change  only  from  bed  to  bed,  from  one  folly  to  an 
other  ;  and  it  cannot  signify  much  what  becomes  of 
such  castaways,  —  wailing,  stupid,  comatose  crea 
tures,  —  lifted  from  bed  to  bed,  from  the  nothing 
of  life  to  the  nothing  of  death. 

In  this  kingdom  of  illusions  we  grope  eagerly  for 
stays  and  foundations.  There  is  none  but  a  strict 
and  faithful  dealing  at  home,  and  a  severe  barring 
out  of  all  duplicity  or  illusion  there.  Whatever 
games  are  played  with  us,  we  must  play  no  games 
with  ourselves,  but  deal  in  our  privacy  with  the  last 
honesty  and  truth.  I  look  upon  the  simple  and 
childish  virtues  of  veracity  and  honesty  as  the  root 
of  all  that  is  sublime  in  character.  Speak  as  you 
think,  be  what  you  are,  pay  your  debts  of  all  kinds. 
I  prefer  to  be  owned  as  sound  and  solvent,  and  my 
word  as  good  as  my  bond,  and  to  be  what  cannot 
be  skipped,  or  dissipated,  or  undermined,  to  all  the 
eclat  in  the  universe.  This  reality  is  the  founda 
tion  of  friendship,  religion,  poetry,  and  art.  At  the 
top  or  at  the  bottom  of  all  illusions,  I  set  the  cheat 
which  still  leads  us  to  work  and  live  for  appear 
ances,  in  spite  of  our  conviction,  in  all  sane  hours, 
that  it  is  what  we  really  are  that  avails  with  friends, 
with  strangers,  and  with  fate  or  fortune. 

One  would  think  from  the    talk    of  men,   that 


280  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

riches  and  poverty  were  a  great  matter  ;  and  our 
civilization  mainly  respects  it.  But  the  Indians  say, 
that  they  do  not  think  the  white  man  with  his  brow 
of  care,  always  toiling,  afraid  of  heat  and  cold,  and 
keeping  within  doors,  has  any  advantage  of  them. 
The  permanent  interest  of  every  man  is,  never  to 
be  in  a  false  position,  but  to  have  the  weight  of 
Nature  to  back  him  in  all  that  he  does.  Riches 
and  poverty  are  a  thick  or  thin  costume ;  and  our 
life  —  the  life  of  all  of  us  —  identical.  For  we 
transcend  the  circumstance  continually,  and  taste 
the  real  quality  of  existence  ;  as  in  our  employ 
ments,  which  only  differ  in  the  manipulations,  but 
express  the  same  laws ;  or  in  our  thoughts,  which 
wear  no  silks,  and  taste  no  ice-creams.  We  see 
God  face  to  face  every  hour,  and  know  the  savor 
of  Nature. 

The  early  Greek  philosophers  Heraclitus  and 
Xenophanes  measured  their  force  on  this  problem 
of  identity.  Diogenes  of  Apollonia  said,  that  un 
less  the  atoms  were  made  of  one  stuff,  they  could 
never  blend  and  act  with  one  another.  But  the 
Hindoos,  in  their  sacred  writings,  express  the  live 
liest  feeling,  both  of  the  essential  identity,  and  of 
that  illusion  which  they  conceive  variety  to  be. 
"  The  notions,  '  I  am,'  and  '  This  is  mine,'  which 
influence  mankind,  are  but  delusions  of  the  mother 
of  the  world.  Dispel,  O  Lord  of  all  creatures  !  the 
conceit  of  knowledge  which  proceeds  from  igno- 


ILLUSIONS.  287 

ranee."     And  the  beatitude  of  man  they  hold  to  lie 
in  being  freed  from  fascination. 

The  intellect  is  stimulated  by  the  statement  of 
truth  in  a  trope,  and  the  will  by  clothing  ^the  laws 
of  life  in  illusions.  But  the  unities  of  Truth  and 
of  Right  are  not  broken  by  the  disguise.  There 
need  never  be  any  confusion  in  these.  In  a 
crowded  life  of  many  parts  and  performers,  on 
a  stage  of  nations,  or  in  the  obscurest  hamlet  in 
Maine  or  California,  the  same  elements  offer  the 
same  choices  to  each  new  comer,  and,  according  to 
his  election,  he  fixes  his  fortune  in  absolute  Nature. 
It  would  be  hard  to  put  more  mental  and  moral 
philosophy  than  the  Persians  have  thrown  into  a 
sentence :  — 

"Fooled  thou  must  be,  though  wisest  of  the  wise: 
Then  be  the  fool  of  virtue,  not  of  vice." 

There  is  no  chance,  and  no  anarchy,  in  the  uni- 
verse.  All  is  system  and  gradation.  Every  god 
is  there  sitting  in  his  sphere.  The  young  mortal 
enters  the  hall  of  the  firmament :  there  is  he  alone 
with  them  alone,  they  pouring  on  him  benedictions 
and  gifts,  and  beckoning  him  up  to  their  thrones. 
On  the  instant,  and  incessantly,  fall  snow-storms 
of  illusions.  He  fancies  himself  in  a  vast  crowd 
which  sways  this  way  and  that,  and  whose  move 
ment  and  doings  he  must  obey :  he  fancies  himself 
poor,  orphaned,  insignificant.  The  mad  crowd  drives 


288  CONDUCT    OF   LIFE. 

hither  and  thither,  now  furiously  commanding  thii- 
thing  to  be  done,  now  that.  What  is  he  that  IK 
should  resist  their  will,  and  think  or  act  for  him 
self?  Every  moment,  new  changes,  and  new  show 
ers  of  deceptions,  to  baffle  and  distract  him.  Am 
when,  by  and  by,  for  an  instant,  the  air  clears,  anc 
the  cloud  lifts  a  little,  there  are  the  gods  still  sitting 
around  him  on  their  thrones,  —  they  alone  witl 
him  alone. 


THE    END. 


CAMBRIDGE:   PRINTED  BY  H.  o.  HOUGHTON. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below, 
or  on  the  date  to  which  renewed.  Renewals  onlv: 


APR  16 '1986 


LD21A-40m-8,'71 
(P6572slO)476-A-32 


GENERAL  LIBRARY  -  U.C.  BERKELEY 


